He's Cheer Captain, and I'm on the Bleachers
by K8Malloy
Summary: A/U: The best way to make new friends is extra-curriculars. Walking in to McKinley's gym one blistering hot August morning, sophomore Blaine Anderson couldn't have known how much he'd learn about himself, about life, and about love from Cheerio Co-Captain Kurt Hummel. Will they be able to keep their attraction contained long enough to win a National Championship?
1. Did You Enjoy The Tour?

**_He's Cheer Captain, I'm on the Bleachers_**

**_A/N: _**_This is an A/U. Sophomore Blaine Anderson transfers to WMHS and decides to try out for the cheer squad where he meets the very attractive senior Co-Captain Kurt Hummel. Can they keep their mutual attraction contained enough to win another national championship?_****

**_Warnings: _**_It's rated M for adult language and sexual situations. If either of these things will make you uncomfortable, then it is best you find another story to read._****

**_Disclaimer:_**_I__ do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed. _

* * *

_Interested in becoming part of the most successful team on the William McKinley High School Campus? Enjoy performing, dancing and gymnastics? Would you like the opportunity to travel to New York and Florida? The Cheerios might be the place for you._

_The Cheerios are always on the look out for talent, enthusiasm and dedication. Our competitive season begins in August with conditioning camp. Auditions for new members are held on the last two days of camp. New members will be notified the first day of classes._

_All returning and prospective members are expected to attend conditioning camp the first two weeks of August. Attendance is mandatory. We will begin promptly at 8:30am and end at 3:00pm. All prospective members are required to wear a white t-shirt, black shorts, and flat soled cheer shoes. Bring water. Lots of water. See you there!_

* * *

Blaine Anderson, sophomore transfer to William McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio walked into the large gym on the first Monday in August not really knowing what to expect. Loud music was blaring from speakers. Fifty or sixty kids inside – mostly girls, but a few boys like him, were all engaged in some sort of activity. Some were already stretching on pads on the wood floor. Some were standing, arms flailing about in intricate patterns as they mouthed the words to what Blaine expected to be actual cheers. Everyone seemed to be wearing white, black or red.

A tall, slender young man brushed past him from behind, mumbling something Blaine couldn't quite make out. Taking a chance, Blaine reached out to tap him on the shoulder. He certainly wasn't prepared for the sight that met his eyes. The guy was indescribably gorgeous. Without conscious thought, Blaine's eyes dropped to take in his athletic form, fitted red shorts, and black t-shirt that hugged his chest in the best way. Finally he glanced back up at the boy's face, noting the raised eyebrows and look of amusement.

"Did you enjoy the tour?" he asked with a smirk.

Mouth dry, Blaine had to swallow hard before he could answer. "Um, I'm sorry. What?"

The other boy rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Was there something you wanted, besides feeling me up with your eyes?" he asked pointedly. "I do have other things to do today."

Blaine shook his head to clear it. "I'm new here." Undeterred by the other boy's laughter, Blaine pressed on. "I'm not exactly sure what to do."

"Come on, new kid." The boy reached out and tugged on Blaine's messenger bag strap, draped across his chest. "Follow me."

Blaine followed, amazed that the other kids all seemed to move out of the way without being asked or told. When they reached the far side of the gym, the other boy turned to him and gestured towards the bleachers.

"Pull out your water and leave it on the lowest bleacher. Drop your stuff somewhere up in the stands. No one is going to touch it. Then you can come find me out on the mats. You need to stretch. Trust me. I'm Kurt, by the way."

Blaine quickly did what he'd been instructed, then made his way over to where Kurt was laid out in a straddle stretch, chest flat on the black mat. Dropping down, Blaine spread his legs as far as was comfortable and began to lean forward, breathing slowly as he deepened each stretch, concentrating on not bouncing.

"Thank you," he called out towards Kurt.

Kurt pushed himself off of the floor far enough to place his chin on his elbows and stare at the new kid. "I'm sorry? Did you say something?"

Blaine admired his blue-green eyes. "Thanks. For your help. I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson." Turning around to stretch out his back, Blaine's curiosity grew. "Kurt, is there some hidden meaning to the colored shirts?" he asked.

Kurt sat up, bringing his legs in, pressing the soles of his feet together, and drawing them in as close to his crotch as he could. "Yeah. You're new to McKinley, aren't you?" Gracefully, he began to stretch the muscles in his arms, studying Blaine closely.

"That's kinda what I meant when I _said_ I was new." Blaine smiled shyly before sitting up to copy Kurt's moves, albeit without as much grace.

Shrugging, Kurt explained, "I assumed you meant you were new to the Cheerios. Sorry. Yes, the shirts have meaning. All of you wearing white t-shirts are newbies. Never made the Cheerios before. The red shirts represent the junior varsity cheer squad. Black shirts are varsity."

"Oh. So you're on varsity. Which would make you…" Blaine paused expectantly.

Kurt chuckled, "A senior. Yeah, I've been on varsity for four years, and before you ask, yes, that is unusual. But then again, I've never been your typical anything," he observed unapologetically. He admired the slight flush that spread across the younger boy's neck as Kurt held his gaze. The kid was young, for sure, but 100% eye candy.

Finished with his series of stretches, Kurt sat cross-legged in front of Blaine. "The JV squad cheers at the JV games – football and basketball – so typically it's made up of freshmen and sophomores; Varsity does the same only at the Varsity games – so usually it's the juniors and seniors. But the Cheerios are much more than that. We combine the best 26 cheerleaders from both squads, to form our competition squad. The Cheerios have won six national championships in the past seven years. We're a serious competitive squad – Orlando. ESPN. The real deal." Kurt's eyes darkened as he spoke passionately about his team.

Reaching forward, Kurt brushed a stray curl behind Blaine's ear as an excuse just to touch it. It was as soft as Kurt had imagined. "So, new to McKinley kid. Here's the deal. If cheering "rah rah siss boom bah" is your thing, then you're in the wrong place. And don't feel bad. You can leave before conditioning starts. No one will say much."

Blaine wrapped his arms around his knees, holding Kurt's gaze. "No. No. I'm really excited to be here. I mean, maybe I'll be the biggest flop in the history of the Cheerios, but we miss 100% of the opportunities we refuse to take. I'm not going to walk out before I've even given it a shot." Blaine dropped his gaze, before peering back up at Kurt through his eyelashes. "Any advice you wouldn't mind sharing."

Kurt smirked. It was too easy, and he wasn't able to help himself. "Stand up," he commanded. Once the new kid had done that, Kurt held out a finger, making small circles with it "Turn around…slowly."

The new kid was shorter than the guys Kurt would normally find attractive, but his amazing golden eyes and firm ass more than made up for it. Besides, given his age, the kid probably still had a few more growth spurts in him.

After Blaine had sat down again, Kurt gave him his honest opinion. "You're going to need to lift weights – bulk up your arm strength, to lift the flyers. 'Cause if you end up making the team, that's what you'll be doing as a guy. The heavy lifting."

"Hey!" A blonde girl wearing a red t-shirt who had been stretching nearby reached over to smack Kurt on the arm.

Rubbing his arm, Kurt glared at the girl. "Shut it, Fabray." He looked back at Blaine and winked. "You need to be prepared to work your ass off. Adorable as it may be," he added flirtatiously noted how Blaine turned a darker red at his directeness.

"**Kurt**!" the girl looked read to smack Kurt again.

Kurt's grin grew knowing how irritated Quinn was becoming at his flirtation with Blaine. She didn't care that Kurt was gay, but as president of the school's celibacy club, she was always uncomfortable with anything remotely sexual. Holding out his hand in the universal sign to stop, Kurt spoke to her.

"For the record, Fabray, I checked the student handbook. For it to be considered harassment, it needs to be _unwelcome_ and _unwanted_. And the hobbit here may not welcome my flirtatious advances, but given the way his pupils have blown with desire, he certainly _wants_ them."

Blaine swallowed hard, before flicking his tongue out to wet his very dry lips. Arousal burst through him when he realized Kurt's eyes had followed the movements. What the hell was happening here?

A piercing whistle sounded, and the entire gym went silent. An extremely tall woman dressed in a blue track suit stood in the entrance to the gym. Raising a mega-phone to her lips, she yelled out, "Lopez! Hummel! Fabray! Front and center."

Kurt squeezed Blaine's knee when he stood and offered him one more wink before moving to stand by the cheerleading coach. Blaine felt his stomach sink.

"All right you pathetic sacks of lard, welcome to Hell Week. The Navy SEALs are scared to attend my conditioning camp, ladies. You want the uniform? You're going to have to prove you deserve it." She gestured to the three students standing next to her. "Kurt Hummel and Santana Lopez are co-captains of the varsity squad. Quinn Fabray is captain of our junior varsity squad."

She continued saying things, but Blaine tuned her out. He'd just been flirting with the _captain_ of the cheerleading squad. Kurt Hummel. _Captain_.

_Fuck_.

This was either going to be very, very _good_ – or very, very _bad_.

* * *

**End Note:** I sat down last night to type in the next chapter of my other story. Instead of chapter eight of _Shove Me in to Shallow Waters,_ my muse took over and gave me ten pages of Cheerio Kurt and Cheerio Blaine. Sigh. I'm not complaining. They're hot. Since honesty is the best policy, I will state for the record that I don't know how quickly I will be able to update between now and the beginning of June, but I will update as time allows. Thank you for reading!


	2. You're Overthinking Things, Hobbit

**A/N:** Today was enormously frustrating. Instead of taking work home with me, I decided to decompress by writing.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters - and no one was harmed in the writing of this fic.

* * *

"We thought we'd start this morning by showing you one of our average routines," smirked the girl who'd been introduced as Kurt's co-captain…Sandy? Sandra? Blaine was kicking himself for not paying better attention. "This isn't anything that would be competitive at the _national_ level, but will give you a feel for what we perform when we're here at school."

She looked pointedly at Kurt who cleared his throat. "Right, Santana. We need all of you to climb up into the bleachers to watch. For _your_ safety and for _ours_," he responded. If he had had anything else to say, it would have been lost among the murmurings of 50 plus students standing up and plodding into the bleachers.

For his part, Blaine climbed up a little higher than the main group of students, wanting to have more of a bird's eye view of things. Propping his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward and placed his chin in his hands to watch. Other than two red shirts, the sea of students left on the floor wore black. Eyes drifting across the group, Blaine counted five guys on the team – including Kurt.

And then, deafening music began to blare from the sound system, literally shaking the wooden bleachers with every beat of the bass.

At first, the routine seemed fairly…routine. The team moved from one formation to the next with precision and grace. Then, the tumbling began.

Girl after girl ran across the mats - cartwheeling, flipping and twisting – narrowly avoiding crashing into someone else, to land with ease only to line up and do the same thing in the opposite direction.

While this was happening in the front, the boys and the flyers worked in two separate groups. Over and over again, the flyer would stand on the hands and arms of the three boys in order to be thrown into the air, where she would somersault, or kick out into the splits, or complete some other complicated maneuver before dropping back down into their arms, where they quickly manipulated her into position for another toss.

Blaine was dumbstruck.

What the _hell_ had he gotten himself into? Sure, he'd watched the high school cheerleading championships on ESPN2 for the last couple years. He considered himself to be a fairly decent dancer, and had taken gymnastics until the end of 8th grade, so he could do a cartwheel and a front and back flip. But _this_…_this_ was controlled insanity.

Taking a moment to seriously consider walking away now, Blaine took note as several girls had the same idea – rushing from the bleachers, heads down in shame. But wasn't this the time _to_ get out, before people learned his name? Before he tried, and failed?

Decision made, Blaine stood up just as the music cut out. Naturally his eyes found Kurt's, who after wiping the sweat from his forehead with the bottom of his shirt, offered Blaine a flirtatious wink and took his sweet time lowering his shirt back into place.

Decision unmade, Blaine did his best to cover his awkward position by starting to applaud. The rest of the newbies looked back at him, then jumped up to join what they thought was supposed to be a standing ovation. Blaine could tell by the look Kurt gave him, that he hadn't fooled the senior at all.

The Cheerio squad all walked towards the bleachers and began sucking down water as they caught their breath. After a minute or two, Kurt placed his water bottle down on the floor and waved the newbies closer. "It would be great if you could all move down this way so I don't have to shout. It's fine if we're at a game – but I'd really rather not strain my voice right before school starts." He made a token effort to look at everyone, but truthfully, his eyes kept drifting right back at the new curly-haired kid.

"So _that_ would be a fairly regular routine for us," Kurt continued after everyone had settled down. "Our national routines are _much_ more complicated – both in the tumbling passes required and the tosses we throw. If you just watched that and had a '_Holy fuck, __**what**__ did I sign up for_?' moment, don't feel too bad." He met the eyes of the new kid until he flushed and looked down at the floor.

Gesturing towards the returning squad members, Kurt reassured, "Every one of us had that _same_ thought the first time we watched the Cheerios perform." Kurt looked over at Santana, who was engaged in conversation with Quinn over placements of the newbies. "Well, everyone but Santana. She doesn't have a soul, so she feels nothing," he teased loudly, drawing her attention.

"Screw you, Hummel. I resemble that remark," she sassed back not bothering to look up from the clipboard while she flipped him off.

"You're not my type, Satan. Sorry," Kurt threw back nonchalantly. Hearing the quiet laughter from the kids in the bleachers, he knew he'd been successful at alleviating some of the tension.

He looked back at the group of potential cheerleaders. "Seriously though, if that was too intense, you have the option to leave now – or any point during conditioning. It's not something to be ashamed of. We're like any other sports team – sometimes you don't make the cut. We don't live in a one-size fits all, cookie cutter world. So accept yourself and your limitations. The more you own it, the more power you have."

That drew Santana's attention. "Geez, Hummel, get the munchies for some fortune cookies, last night?" she asked sarcastically.

Kurt spun and stared her down with one of his bitchiest looks. It took a while, but she finally dropped her eyes, looking as embarrassed as it was possible for her to be.

"_Anyway_," he drawled slowly, "if you complete conditioning, and are still holding strong, then we invite you to try out. There are several spots on the junior varsity and varsity cheer squads – but you have to keep in mind that just because you make the cheer squad does **not** mean you will make the competition squad that travels to Florida."

The blonde girl who had been stretching near Blaine and Kurt stepped up holding a pile of papers. "Hi, everyone!" she called out. "I'm Quinn Fabray. This year I am captain of the junior varsity cheer squad and I am a flyer for the comp squad. That was me being tossed towards the rafters by Kurt, Sam and Mike." As she called out their names, Sam – an athletic blonde and Mike – a slender Asian, raised their hands to wave briefly.

"What I have for you is information on the costs associated with being a cheerleader. If you would take one and pass the rest on, I'll go over what this will run you and your parents and a few ways we fundraise."

When a packet finally made it to Blaine, he quietly skimmed through the first page. Damn! He'd had no idea that cheerleading was _this_ expensive. Uniform costs (_shell, turtleneck, skirt/pants, sweater, jacket, warm-up pants, polo shirts, bow, socks, shoes, and pompoms_) **$895.00**; Cheer camp (held last week of August WMHS) **$400.00**; Transportation fees (_busing to/ from games & three local competitions_) **$300.00**; Choreographer fee **$120.00**; Pictures **$65.00 and up**; **_Mandatory_ **travel to New York for participation in Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade (airfare, hotel, food, registration fee, additional uniform pieces & pompoms) **$1200.00**.

Pulling out his phone to use the calculator, Blaine realized that being a McKinley cheerleader alone would run over $3,000 dollars. And at the bottom of the spreadsheet was a note stating clearly: _Costs listed here are for members of the junior varsity and varsity teams only. Additional costs are associated with acceptance to the competitive Cheerio squad. Information will be provided at a parent/ student meeting to be held at the end of September for all prospective Cheerio comp team members._

Quinn waited until most of the potential members looked back up at her, before giving her best 'show' smile. "No one said being fabulous was cheap. And we _are_ fabulous. But before anyone else gets up to leave, I just want to let you know that we do have some fundraisers to offset some of these costs. Last year, for example, most of us were able to cut about $800.00 off our totals. It just depends how much time and effort you are able to put into it. The third page of the budget packet is the list of current fundraisers we anticipate having. If you have a great idea that isn't listed her, feel free to share it with myself, or Kurt."

Flipping to the third page, Blaine glanced at the list. Three car washes, a candy apple sale, four "family dinner" nights at Breadsticks, a poinsettia sale, four _parents' night out_ babysitting nights, and something labeled 'Servant Auction'. Pondering for a moment, Blaine decided to risk a question and bravely raised his hand in the air.

Kurt's attention was drawn by the new kid's hand. "Yes, _Hobbit_? You have a question?" He called out, enjoying the flush that overtook Blaine at the teasing nickname and the looks the other kids were giving him.

Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Blaine cleared his throat. "It's _Blaine_. I was wondering…how the money the team fundraises is distributed amongst everyone. Some of these seem like they might be more individual fundraisers, but I'm not sure about the others."

Pursing his lips, Kurt nodded slightly. "Good question, Hobbit. Really quick, because we have lots of other things to do today – we presell tickets to the car wash. Everyone is expected to sell 20 tickets. More is okay too. $10 a ticket, $5 goes directly to you, $5 to the team – **if** you work the carwash. If not, the split is $3/ $7 and the extra $2 is divided equitably among everyone who worked. The candy apple and the poinsettia sales are similar. For every $12 apple you sell, _you_ get a $6 credit. For every $10 poinsettia, _you_ get $5. With the dinner nights – the **team** gets 15 – 20% of the food sales – so that helps reduce the registration fees for competition. If you work the parents' night out watching the kiddies, you get an equitable division of what we take in. And Servant Day is when we auction off members of the Cheerios for a 12 hour period. You **do** **not** have to participate – but whatever price you are auctioned off for goes directly to _your_ account. Questions? Comments? Confusion?"

Kurt paused, wanting to give enough time for anyone else to ask a follow up questions. When no one did, he spoke again. "It's like Fabray said: Yes, we know it's expensive. Yes, we have fundraisers to help with the costs. The bottom line, however, is that the effectiveness of the fundraisers ends up being up to you. How effective are you at selling people things they may or may not need? How good are you at whoring yourself out for cash?" Kurt hesitatated, seeing the shocked looks pass over some of the younger kids present.

"I meant that figuratively, not literally whoring yourself out," he hastened to add.

Santana snorted. "Did you explain that to Ruby?" she snarked loud enough for everyone to overhear.

"Santana!" exclaimed Quinn reproachfully. "That's-"

"The truth." Santana and Kurt answered at the same time.

"But neither here nor there," Kurt continued. "Um…" Kurt sighed uncomfortably. "This is an awkward time for all of us, but…if you have concluded that cheerleading for McKinley is out of your family's price range – you are welcome to leave at this time. You can stay, too. But, frankly, there aren't that many days of summer left, and** I** know** I** would rather spend them inside, in air conditioning, than in a stuffy, sauna of a gym doing something I know won't end how I wanted it to."

There were at least twelve girls and two boys who grabbed their bags and water bottles and left – some waving to friends, others staring at the ground, and at least three in tears.

Quinn Fabray passed out yet another piece of paper – a double sided sheet with seven months of calendars. "Let's talk about time commitment, folks," she began.

Blaine listened attentively as she explained the basic cheerleading schedule of practice, game days, and competitions.

"You can expect three practices a week and one game during footballs season, three practices a week and two games during basketball season. You will not have time to participate on another sports team. You will not have time for a part-time job. What we do runs about 20 hours a week for seven months – more if it is a week prior to competition. If you happen to make the comp cheer squad, expect these numbers to ramp up to 40 hours a week – for seven months."

Santana placed her hands on her hips, "Look, ladies and hobbits, in a nutshell – you commit_ to us_, it's blood in, blood out. You'll have _no_ identity outside of cheerleading. And you won't _want one_. You'll have no _life_. And you won't _want_ _one_. What you **will** have – is greater than all of that. What you **will** have, is a **_national_ **championship. You might be from Lima _fucking_ Ohio – but you will be a member of the elite William. McKinley. High. School. Cheerios." She explained with pride.

Tossing her ponytail over her shoulder, Santana smirked. "So if you're _not_ ready to make that kind of commitment to us – with all due respect, and that isn't much newbies, gets the _hell_ outs my gym," she ordered.

Blaine estimated that another dozen or so kids stood and walked quickly towards the gym doors. They hadn't even _started_ conditioning and they'd managed to cut the number of students in half. He might have a decent amount of self-confidence, but Blaine was definitely starting to feel doubt creeping up his spine.

So engrossed in his thoughts, Blaine hadn't even realized that Kurt had climbed up into the bleaches until he sat next to Blaine, sliding close enough that their thighs were pressed together. Ducking his head low and staring at Blaine's hands in his lap, Kurt whispered, "You're overthinking things, _Hobbit_."

"It's _Blaine_," he replied, rolling his eyes.

Glancing up, Kurt raised an eyebrow and stared into the new kid's honey golden eyes, losing himself for a moment. "_Just_…just give it until the end of today. It's _gonna_ kick that amazing ass of yours," he leaned back slightly as if admiring Blaine's butt. "But only in the best way."

Reaching over, he took one of Blaine's hands loosely in his own. "There's a fine line between pleasure and pain, _Hobbit_."

Blaine could feel the heat begin to pour off of him at Kurt's over-the-top flirtation. He could barely contain a groan, when Kurt slowly ran his tongue around his rose-tinged lips, not once dropping their gaze.

"Am I making you...nervous?" Kurt purred as he began to trace circles in the palm of Blaine's hand with his fingernail.

_Fuck_! Who knew the palm of the hand was an erogenous zone? It was all Blaine could bring himself to do to nod. He'd lost the power of speech back when Kurt mentioned the word _pleasure_.

"Don't be." Kurt took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I might push you beyond the limits you _think_ you have when we're dealing with cheerleading. It's my _job_…as captain."

Kurt glanced away, then back. Blaine could tell he had dropped the mask of flirtation and cockiness and was being sincere. "I will never – ever – push you beyond what you are comfortable with when it's just the two of us, _Hobbit_. Look, putting the captain's hat back on for a minute, the reality is, we need another guy or two for the stunt squad. You can see there are only four of you left. Just stick it through to the end of today – then _promise_ me you'll come find me," urged Kurt.

"Okay. I promise," Blaine answered quietly.

Kurt nodded. "Good. Good. Because if you suck…" Kurt paused, loving the blush that deepened to a dark red on Blaine, "If you suck _at cheerleading_, I mean...I'll tell you. And if that's the case, then you can ask for my phone number and I'll give it to you. Because, and I mean this with all sincerity, you are the _fucking_ **hottest** guy to walk into McKinley, ever. And my mind is filled with _filthy_ _filthy_ images of what I'd like to do **with** you. And **to** you. And if **that** doesn't freak you the _fuck_ out, then…well, I'm the luckiest prick at McKinley."

Watching Kurt strut down the bleachers, Blaine was left with a thought. What if he didn't suck…at cheerleading? Could he still have Kurt's phone number then?


	3. A three-headed cow, baby penguin, Hobbit

**_Warnings: _**_It's rated M for adult language and sexual situations. If either of these things will make you uncomfortable, then it is best you find another story to read._

**_Disclaimer:_**_I__ do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed._

* * *

Kurt climbed up the bleachers with his evaluation clipboard. Yesterday and today were filled with critiques of the remaining newbies' abilities to cheer, dance, tumble and stunt. For the most part, they – Kurt, Santana, Quinn and Coach Sylvester – were looking for complete packages. School started in four days – and anyone who was a late addition didn't have the summer to prepare, they would have to be able to hit the ground running.

Spotting Blaine sitting above the other students, Kurt moved to sit down next to him. "Last day," commented Kurt as he nudged Blaine with his shoulder. "Nervous about trying out?" He asked with interest.

Pulling his attention away from the group of girls performing a dance routine on the gym floor, Blaine smiled warmly at Kurt. "No. Well, maybe a little. Mostly…I'm feeling pretty confident. The DVDs you guys made of the cheers and dance routines were really helpful," he said quietly before looking back at the performers.

"Glad to hear it," Kurt remarked distractedly, making marks on a clipboard as he scanned the dancers. Quiet for another minute, Kurt waited for the noisy transition between groups to lean over to Blaine again.

"You haven't dropped anyone so far. That is definitely a point in your favor," he observed dryly. Slipping one piece of paper behind the others, Kurt signaled his readiness to judge the next group to Coach Sylvester.

Aware that other students were occasionally glancing up at them, Blaine started sliding away from Kurt to put some distance between them but halted when Kurt's hand landed on his thigh – fingers uncomfortably close to _there_. "_Kurt_," he managed to squeak out, hurriedly grabbing Kurt's hand.

"Stay." Kurt intertwined their fingers, resting their hands on his knee, never taking his eyes off of the dancers. He was able to continue jotting his notes by balancing his clipboard on his other knee.

"Kurt, the other kids…they're staring at us," Blaine whispered, worried about how his budding…_friendship_… with Kurt would affect his relationship with the other cheerleaders. His anxiety over how the other kids would perceive him melted into panic when Kurt dropped his hand, stood up and marched down the bleachers without saying another word.

Blaine's face fell. Caught between a rock and a hard place – he didn't know what to do next. Kurt was clearly pissed at him for shying away from his advances – even though he'd said he would respect Blaine's boundaries. And there was no way he'd make the team if Kurt hated him. But if the other kids started to think he was receiving special treatment, that would only lead to resentment and frustration – not the way Blaine wanted to start the year at his new school.

He was screwed either way.

* * *

Standing off to the side of the gym, Santana glared at Kurt as he walked up to her. "What's up, Porcelain? Hobbit got your panties in a bunch?" she teased her friend while keeping an eye on the dancers.

"Fuck, Satan. You have no idea," Kurt answered with a huge sigh, leaning back against the wall.

"Well, you're gonna have _all_ year to mark him as yours, ruining his ability to ever enjoy another man's attention – so I would think chillin' out for another –" she glanced at her watch, "four hours would be achievable. You know, before you ravish him in celebration of his making the squad," she winked before realizing how freaked out Kurt really seemed.

Kurt turned away from the bleachers so only she could see his face. "He's worried…about what the other Cheerios think," he explained.

Santana nodded, crossing three more names off the list. "So he's not dumb. Christ, Hummel, you should be proud your Hobbit's figured _that_ much out. It's not like it matters. Until you break up right before Nationals– at which point the team is _fucked_ and I'll kill you both, so you better not break his heart."

It never ceased to amaze Kurt how Santana could threaten to kill someone with a smile on her face. "Why do you assume _I'm_ going to break his heart?" Kurt asked, glossing over the fact that Santana already had them dating in her mind. "I'm a decent guy."

She snorted. "I guess. But _The-Boy-Who-Cheers_ looks at you with giant, glittery pink heart eyes. _Shit_, what the hell is up with these girls who can't stay on the beat?" she hissed, momentarily distracted by the dancers who were horribly off-count. When the music finally stopped, Santana turned and held up one finger against Kurt's chest.

"**You** used to look at Adam the same way," she said in a rush, aware of the sensitive topic she was bringing up. "Do you remember? If _he_ had asked you to jump of a cliff, you would have. Look how far you went trying to get and then keep his attention," she pointed out.

Kurt paled at the painful memories of his ninth grade year, crushing on a senior boy who completely took advantage of that fact. "You think it's the same, Santana?" he asked quietly.

She gave Kurt one of her rare, sincere smiles. "I _think_ that he looks at you the same way. I _think_ he has a crush that is just as big as the one you clearly have on him. And I am 110% certain that you would never, ever chew someone up and spit them out the way Adam did you.

"But look at him, Hummel. He's got 'baby penguin' tattooed across his forehead, and 'saving it for my one true love' across his ass. You need to recognize that and slow _the fuck_ down. Otherwise, he's gonna get hurt – and you aren't even going to know it. And _fuck_ if he's gonna feel comfortable enough to tell you," she answered honestly.

Santana wrote a few more notes down on her clipboard as a few of the newbies jogged past to use the bathrooms before the tumbling performances. When they were relatively alone again, she looked back up at Kurt, who was staring off into space. "You know, freshman year, it wasn't _completely_ wretched. My crazy Pretty Pony convinced me to try out for cheerleading. I wouldn't have done that without you. So as craptastic as that year was overall – I got the Cheerios out of it…and _you_, as a best friend. And even if I don't always act like it, I wouldn't trade you for anything, Hummel."

They both surreptitiously wiped away moisture from their eyes. "Damn, it's so flipping hot, I'm sweating through my eyes again!" Kurt joked, causing Santana to laugh. Walking over to join Coach Sylvester and Quinn in the center of the gym, Kurt threw his arm around Santana. "I love you too, Satan."

"Shut up," she answered without heat.

* * *

In the process of switching out the critique sheets for dancing with the ones for tumbling, Kurt looked up in time to see Blaine, bag in hand, slinking down the bleachers. Where was he going? He nudged Santana with his elbow, jerking his chin in the direction of Blaine.

"He's probably going to the bathroom," she said.

"With his bag? No. He's leaving, San," he said, trying not to panic.

Coach Sylvester looked up at her co-captains. "Sandbags, Porcelain. _One_ of the two of you better go grab young Burt Reynolds. We need him for the stunt squad – and you have my permission to explain that to him, if that's what it takes to keep him here. Or use duct tape. Either way, don't come back without him." That said, she grabbed her megaphone off the floor and went to call the first group out to the floor.

Santana slapped her clipboard against Kurt's stomach. "I gots this, Lady Hummel. Don't wait for me. We know we're not taking anyone from the first tumbling group anyway – but if someone bitches, have Mike pretend to take notes." Hips swishing, she followed the new kid out the gym.

Glancing around, she caught the motion of door to the boys' locker room sliding shut. With the confidence of someone who had grown up in Lima Heights Adjacent and had spent the last three years winning three consecutive national championships, Santana strode into the locker room like it was her bitch.

_Oops_. Judging from the number of guys ducking behind lockers or grabbing whatever was handy to cover their junk, Santana had caught most of the varsity football team at a bad time. "**Anderson**! Where are you?" she yelled out, not making any effort to cover her eyes.

"Santana, _what_ _the_ _fuck_?" blurted Finn Hudson grabbing a football to cover up his junk.

"I'm looking for someone, Man-boobs. Carry about your business," she explained blithely moving further into the locker room.

Dave Karofsky rounded the corner of a bank of lockers and jumped back in surprise. "Geezus, Lopez. Can't you read English? This is the _men's_ locker room," Dave Karofsky added snidely, yanking on a shirt to cover up.

"Then what the hell are _you_ doing in here?" She shot back not even bothering to look in his direction.

"Fucking bitch," Dave ground out.

At that, Santana stepped up in his face, quietly hissing out, "Maybe I am, _asshole_, but I'm certainly not the _only_ one. I've _heard_ things, Dave. _Things that you might not want anyone else to know about._ So I strongly suggest you step off. 'Cause if a picture is worth a thousand words…well, let's just say, I can't imagine how much my little video is worth."

Santana knew her words hit home when Dave paled and his face took on a greenish tone. Making threats to expose people wasn't something that came naturally to her – although she was quite good at it by now. Each time she did something like this, she would remember what life had been like for Kurt, and she'd have to tamp down the guilt. She'd come to terms with the truth that high school, like so many other places, had its own pecking order – and knowledge was power. If it would keep her safe, or her friends safe, Santana would use it.

They were saved from having to say anything further when Coach Beiste's voice rang out. "Let's move it, Titans. You've got thirty seconds to make it out on the pool deck or you will run laps instead of swim them." The air was filled with a cacophony of slamming metallic doors as the boys hurried to grab their stuff.

When it finally quieted down, Santana tried one more time. "_Anderson_? Where are you?"

The sound of scuffling feet preceded Blaine's appearance. He hadn't changed yet and was still carrying his duffle bag.

"Can I ask what you're doing here?"

Blaine didn't look up from the floor. "I could ask you the same thing, Santana."

She buffed her fingernails against her shirt. "You could. I'm here to find you and drag your ass back to tryouts. Sorry, that came out wrong…I'm here to encourage you to come back to tryouts, because we want you on the stunt squad. But if you tell me no, then I'll drag your ass back. It's your choice," she grinned at the boy, trying in some small way to crack the tension that seemed to be pouring off of him.

He leaned against the lockers, staring away from her. "That's not much of a choice," he observed forlornly.

Santana didn't get it. The last two weeks, Anderson had been totally gung-ho about learning new things. He'd taken to cheerleading like duck to water, and now it was like he'd been kidnapped by aliens and a plastic version of himself had been left behind – just like on that British show Hummel made her watch occasionally.

"B? What's going on?" she asked quietly, moving to stand in front of him so he was forced to look at her. "I've watched you. You love this. So why are you backing off, just when you're about to get started?" Picking up his hand, she gave it a tentative squeeze then stepped back and sat on the bench, waiting expectantly.

Blaine bit his lip nervously. "Can you promise not to say anything?"

He was so quiet that even sitting barely three feet away, Santana almost missed what he said. Sighing, she went in to a well-rehearsed speech. "Blaine, there are _certain_ things I have to report – if you are being hurt – physically, emotionally, or sexually; or if you are in danger of being hurt or are in danger of hurting yourself, I **have** to report that to Coach Sylvester."

"No. No. No. It's nothing like that," Blaine blurted.

"Well then yes, I promise to keep it between us," reassured Santana.

"I kinda like Kurt," he whispered as if this was the first time he admitted it to himself as well.

Santana smiled. "I know," she said matter-of-factly.

Blaine looked startled. "You _know_?"

She let out a quiet chuckle, not wanting to hurt Blaine's feelings. "Yeah. It's pretty obvious…to me, anyway. You do know that he's totally in to you too, right?"

Blaine began to shake his head immediately. "No, he's not."

Crossing her legs, Santana leaned back slightly. "Why would you think that, Hobbit?"

Rolling his eyes at the name, Blaine allowed the emotional floodgates to open. "Because…because…he sat next to me today, and we were talking. But I saw how all the other kids looked at me, so I tried to move away. Then he put his hand on my leg…like really high on my leg, and that made me uncomfortable because they were staring. He told me to stay next to him, and when I explained about the other kids looking at us, he got pissed off at me…and dropped my hand and walked off like he couldn't get away from me fast enough."

Sliding down the lockers, Blaine sat on the concrete floor. "He hates me. And this is just stupid drama – what the hell was I thinking that a senior would want to get to know me? Or that his flirting actually meant something? I am so stupid."

Santana tried to interrupt. "You're not stupid."

Blaine continued as if he hadn't heard. "I figured I wouldn't get on the team if Kurt hated me, and I didn't want to _be_ on the team if the rest of the squad thought that the only reason why I made it was because Kurt was flirting with me. So I decided to leave. I'd rather be labeled a quitter than a slut." He ran his hand down his face, wiping away his emotions.

Damn. Her warning to Hummel had come ten minutes too late. Well, she had told Porcelain that she'd take care of this. He could thank her later for this. "Blaine? Look at me, please." She waited until the sophomore met her eyes timidly. "Anyone who would label you a slut, needs to have their head examined. Seriously, you _shriek_ baby penguin," she began.

Mouthing the words '_baby_ _penguin'_, Blaine tried to keep up.

"We _want_ you on the squad. You've been on the list since last Friday. Coach put you there herself because not only did you not drop any of the flyers when learning how to lift them, **but** you saved Quinn and then Brittany from broken bones by breaking _their_ falls when Klutzy the Eighth Dwarf kept screwing things up."

"Klutzy? Do you mean Markus?"

Santana waved away his comment with her hand. "I don't learn names until people make the squad. Klutzy dropped five girls. Butterfingers dropped three. Zachary dropped one, and you had a perfect no errors inning. Care to guess which two guys will be making the squad?"

She tilted her head to the side until she could see the awareness seep into Anderson's thick skull. Maybe his obliviousness had something to do with the hair products he seemed to pour on after practice was over every day.

"Now, I don't know why the squad was staring at you. I can _imagine_ it probably had more to do with the fact that Hummel has been advertising his attraction to you. _Loudly_. And _repeatedly_. And…you haven't told him to go to hell, which is what they were expecting. This **is** Lima, Ohio. Most of the kids here haven't ever seen a gay couple. It still freaks them out – in a '_wow, look ma, that's a three headed cow_' sort of way. It isn't even that they see it as wrong, although some of them do, but mostly it's just _different_, so they want to checking you out."

A very tiny smile began to form on Blaine's lips. "So I'm a Hobbit-baby penguin-three headed cow to these people? This school is so weird."

Santana laughed at that comment. "Um…no, you're a three headed cow, baby penguin Hobbit. Gotta get the order right."

This time his smile grew a bit more. "Santana? What the hell does that mean, anyway?"

She gave him her full smile this time. "You are a gay, virgin Blaine Anderson. And we like you. And Hummel? He _really_ likes you. Like _wants in your pants as soon as you're ready to take that step_, likes you." She couldn't help snorting when Blaine turned as red as their cheer uniforms. "Sorry, I don't mean to be that blunt, but I do. He doesn't hate you and he's not angry with you."

Standing, she offered a hand to Blaine and pulled him off of the floor. "I told him he needs to back off and let you figure out what you want. I'm only telling you this, because I don't want you to get all emo thinking that because Hummel isn't fondling you as much as he has been, that he's no longer interested."

She offered her hand to Blaine and held it as they walked out of the locker room, passing several athletes as they came in from morning practices. Noticing the looks they were giving Blaine, Santana rose up on her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. "That was the most fun I've had in a long time, Anderson," she said, wanting the other boys to overhear.

Right before they walked back in to the gym, Santana stopped Blaine. "Look, I don't like to get dragged in to other people's relationship drama, so I really _fucking_ hope this is the first, last and only conversation we have on this topic. I reminded Kurt, this morning, that he's been in your shoes before. It didn't end well. But you've never been in his shoes. It's an inequitable power dynamic – oh shut up, don't look at me like that – so I told him he needs to remember to move at your pace, not his. But for your part, Hobbit, you need to _talk_ with him. You need to be willing to open up that little heart of yours and let him hold it. Kurt's not going to let you down if you do."

As soon as they walked through the door, Coach Sylvester's megaphone squawked. "Young Burt Reynolds, so glad you could join us. Get your rear into gear and show us what you learned in tumbling class."

Toeing off his shoes and handing his bag to Kurt who was standing at the door, Blaine hurriedly asked Santana, "If I _really_ show her what I can do – will she be pissed?"

Santana glanced at Kurt before looking back at Blaine. "If you've got moves we haven't seen, Hobbit, lay it all out there. It's a ballsy move. She'll eat it up."

"'Kay. Thanks, Santana."

Twisting once to the left and then back to the right to stretch his back, Blaine showed exactly what his nine years of gymnastics classes had taught him: Round off, back hand spring, back hand spring, double lay out. Then in the reverse direction: cartwheel, front hand spring, front lay out, front lay out, double somersault. Pause. Handstand. One-handed handstand. Handstand. Balance down to a straddle stretch.

When he stood back up and faced Coach Sylvester and the rest of the students in the gym it was dead silent. Scared that he'd completely messed things up, he looked at Santana, wordlessly asking her what he'd done wrong.

It took a few more moments and then everyone seemed to shake off their stunned surprise. Mike and Sam stood up and began yelling and clapping loudly. Everyone followed suit.

Coach Sylvester raised the megaphone to her lips. "And **_that_**, ladies, is how we do things on the Cheerios."

* * *

Kurt stood in front of Blaine and Zachary, a junior. "Gentlemen, welcome to McKinley cheerleading. You've both been selected for varsity." Shaking their hands, Kurt smiled warmly, remembering how it felt for him to get the news he'd been accepted to the most successful team at the school. "Just a reminder, we start practice on Tuesday, the same day classes start, so don't forget your workout gear. And the stunt squad practices start forty minutes before the regular practice – don't be late. Questions?"

He wasn't really expecting any questions, but Kurt could read the confusion on Blaine's face. Waving Zachary off, he asked, "What's up, Hobbit?"

"Varsity? But I'm only a sophomore," Blaine said, his lack of confidence apparent.

Brushing by the boys, Quinn paused and turned to Blaine. "That doesn't matter, Anderson. You're a boy. Unless you were a drooling idiot, you'd still make varsity. It's one of the many perks of owning a penis, and one more example of gender discrimination at McKinley." Her annoyance at how the boys were placed on the squad was readily apparent.

As she went to walk away again, Kurt grabbed her elbow, keeping her in place. He was furious at the JV captain – both for snidely insinuating that Blaine hadn't earned his place on varsity, but also at her overly privileged view of life. Searching for words that wouldn't eviscerate the sophomore girl where she stood, Kurt took three or four slow, deep breaths before responding.

"Seriously, Quinn? When I can get married to Taylor Lautner…the day I can walk down the halls of McKinley without a cheerleading uniform and not get shoved into lockers, or thrown into dumpsters just because I like boys – then and only then, can you and I have a truthful conversation about the discriminatory bullying practices of high school."

Pressing his lips together, Kurt was barely able to control his emotions, irritated because, while he was able to hold back the tears he always felt when he allowed himself to think about how things really worked in the world, his voice crept up higher and higher.

"Until then…what you're dealing with, considering you're a white, intelligent, beautiful, blonde cheerleader…frankly, it doesn't come close to comparing with what Blaine and I have to deal with on a day to day basis. I understand we all have our issues. But the fact that we decided to promote Blaine to varsity to stunt, and you have to do another year on JV… if that's the biggest form of discrimination you're facing…you need to be thankful, not resentful."

With that said, Kurt snatched up his cheer bag and stalked out of the gym, allowing the door to slam behind him. Walking out to his car, the more he processed what had just happened, the more upset Kurt grew. His anger at Quinn, and her cluelessness, had mostly dissipated with his rant. Now that he was away from her – it was the realization of how close he came to losing it – in front of the other newbies, and especially in front of Blaine - began to eat away at him.

McKinley had been a living hell his freshman year – until he'd been approached by Coach Sylvester. Once he'd put on the red, white and black uniform – most of the bullying had stopped. Not all, for sure, but enough that Kurt stopped existing in that very dark, negative vortex. But just because his life was better now, didn't mean he didn't see what happened to other kids on the bottom of the pecking order.

And if Blaine didn't join the squad – when the football players or the hockey players found out that he'd tried out for the Cheerios, the life he was going to lead at McKinley, would be ten times as bad. It broke Kurt's heart just to consider that possibility.

Having reached his Navigator, Kurt used the keyless remote to unlock it, yanking the door to the back seat open, so he could toss his bag in behind his driver's seat. Slamming the door shut, he jumped back against it, startled to see Blaine standing less than two feet away from him.

It really was amazing how Blaine could project such an air of confidence while performing, and then look so young and unsure of himself at other times. He stood in front of Kurt, duffle bag strapped across his chest, fiddling with the buckle. "Is it really that bad?" he asked quietly, not quite looking Kurt in the eye.

Kurt stepped up to Blaine, taking the strap of his bag in hand to pull it off of Blaine and throw it in with his. "Get in. We can talk while I drive you home," he insisted.

"I don't-" began Blaine.

"Stop." Kurt interrupted. "It's ninety seven degrees out here. My car has air conditioning. Shut up, and get in, Hobbit. I'm melting." Kurt didn't wait for Blaine's response. He climbed in, turned on the engine, and cranked the cool air as low as it would go, blasting it fully.

It didn't take Blaine long to jog around the car and seat himself in the passenger seat.

Glancing at him, Kurt answered his question. "It can be. That bad. But you won't have to worry as much. The uniform will stop most of it. The physical stuff anyway." Putting the car in gear, Kurt pulled out of the student parking lot onto the street. "They'll still make comments…if it gets to be too much, you need to tell me or Santana. We'll deal with it."

Blaine stared at the passing houses. "I can take care of myself"

Kurt pulled the car over to the side of the road, parking in the shade of a tree in front of some random house. He left the car running as he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face Blaine. "Look, Hobbit, I realize that you're probably offended by my offer of help – seeing as you're an alpha gay and all – and if you weren't trying out for the Cheerios, you could fly under the radar, passing as straight."

When Blaine huffed and rolled his eyes, Kurt knew he'd hit a sore spot. Dropping his gaze, Kurt stared out the window next to him watching a handful of kids running through the sprinklers of someone's front yard. "I never had that option. Everyone has always known I was gay – even before I knew what that meant." He shrugged slightly.

"Whatever. I own it. I like guys. And dealing with everything that comes with that – it's made me who I am today. And…I like myself." He needed Blaine to understand. "But when I say I know how bad it can get…it's coming from personal experience." He reached out and covered Blaine's hand with his own squeezing gently.

Leaning close, Kurt rasped out, "So I'm going to say it again, more quietly, and more slowly…so you can stare at my lips and, later on, imagine them doing wicked things to your spirit stick. Maybe with the repetition, what I'm saying will sink in to those gorgeous curls you insist on shellacking into oblivion."

"If they start to make your life hell, you will come to see me. Or Santana. We will take care of it. You don't deserve it. None of us do. There is no shame in being who you are. And there is no shame in asking for help when you need it." His point made, Kurt leaned back against the door, crossing his arms across his chest, drawing Blaine's attention to the muscles in his upper arms. "Do I need to have you repeat that?" he teased softly.

Smiling shyly, Blaine shook his head. "No. Message received." His teeth slowly pulled on his lower lip as he considered what he was comfortable sharing with a guy he'd known for less than two weeks. A gorgeous guy who flirted with him like crazy and whom he'd had quite a few dreams about over those two weeks – but still. Trust no longer came easily to Blaine.

"Thank you," he whispered. "It means more to me than you will probably ever know that you're willing to…to watch out for me."

Kurt could see the sophomore's eyes turn glassy as he clearly held back tears. "Something you want to talk about, _Hobbit_?"

"My name is **Blaine**." His response came out sharper than he'd intended. "No. No thank you."

Kurt slid as close to Blaine as the bucket seats allowed, opening his arms. "Hey, I didn't mean to upset you. Come here." Surprised that Blaine actually listened, Kurt enjoyed the feeling of holding the younger man in his arms. "I…if you…" Kurt held one arm around Blaine's waist, while he slipped his free hand into Blaine's soft curls. "I can be a good listener, B. If you ever _need_ to talk. Or _want_ to talk." He brushed his lips on Blaine's temple, ignoring the hot tears he felt on his neck and shoulder.

"Thanks," came Blaine's shaky reply. "You…you give pretty good hugs, too."

Kurt laughed quietly. "Noted. I'll update my resume tonight."

Blaine snorted, but didn't pull away. Being in Kurt's arms…it felt safe and comfortable.

When was the last time he'd felt like this?

He couldn't say.

* * *

**End Note**:_ I needed this week to be over on Tuesday. Writing was my therapy - so while I needed to do other things, I chose to write. I feel better. I feel better when writing, I feel better waking up to see new followers (and wondering where in the world you live), and I feel better when I read the lovely reviews some of you have taken the time to write. Thank you for allowing me to share the stories that live in my head. On a separate note: Chapter Four is ready to go. Wanna hint?: It's got a pretty intense confrontation followed by naughty sexy times. Baby penguins need to start growing up sometime, right? _


	4. You're Not Superman

**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is__ rated M for adult language (swearing and homophobic slurs) and sexual situations. If either of these things will make you uncomfortable, then it is best you find another story to read because some fairly heavy doses of both occur below. _

**_Disclaimer:_**_I__ do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed._

* * *

"Look, it's another cheerleading fairy." The unfamiliar voice was filled with contempt.

Standing in the locker room, having just changed back into his street clothes after his shower, Blaine took a deep breath and centered himself. High school was high school. He could change schools, but the bullies would still be there. He knew it was important to show that he wasn't afraid of their taunts. Maybe they'd leave him alone. He could hope.

Blaine shut his locker hard and leaned his hip against it. "That's original," he stated dryly looking at seven or eight members of the football team. They'd been in the locker room when he'd come in, mostly finishing up showers and changing into street clothes. When they hadn't said anything at first, Blaine had let his guard down, thinking things might be different. Clearly he'd been wrong.

"What are you saying?" Asked another player, arms crossed defensively.

Rolling his eyes, Blaine gave them a look that clearly showed he thought they were all idiots. "Your use of slurs. Original."

He pushed away from the locker and went on the offensive. Slowly stalking towards the players, he ticked off his fingers as he explained sarcastically, "Never have I ever been called a fairy before. Or princess. Faggot. Lady. Fudge Packer. Salami smoker. Cock sucker. Nope, never heard those before." He took pride in the fact that several of the boys had started to move away, towards the door.

The original Neanderthal shrugged. "What do you expect? You're a homo," he spat.

Blaine calmly stared into the eyes of the other boy, refusing to react to his words. "Am I?" he asked firmly, raising his eyebrow.

"…"

The other boy began to look around at his friends for support. Unfortunately, they were more interested in watching to see how this would play out.

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Blaine cocked his head to the side. "That's a fairly large assumption on your part. That I'm _gay_." He pointed his index finger towards his chest.

"What exactly are you basing your assumption on? Is it just because I'm trying out for the cheer squad? Because if that is your sole proof, I'd just like to state, that participating in an activity with 30 _fine_ looking women - and they **are** fine looking - dressed in short skirts and spankies is _hardly_ gay. It's every straight guy's fantasy. Do you even _know_ what I do? Fuck, I'm the one lifting them up – and where do you think my hands get to go? Right on those nice firm asses." Blaine could tell a couple of the guys were thinking hard about what he'd said.

"So, yeah, _clearly_ a guy who wants to be on Cheerios – must be a fag, right?" His voice dripped sarcasm. "Because if I wasn't…well, then I'd be the luckiest prick of all." He turned back to his locker, so he could retrieve his messenger bag.

"Dude, that's-" The other boy stopped, at a loss for words.

"Logical." Blaine filled in, knowing his flippancy would probably go over the footballer's head. "I know. I'm just trying to help."

Having grabbed his bag, Blaine turned towards the players once more. "Look, I'm _pretty_ sure the _only_ other way that any of you would know for sure whether or not I was gay would be if…well, if we'd had sex. And **I'm** certain that I would remember having had sex with any one of you. And…I don't. So I think it's a pretty safe bet that isn't your proof."

Blaine felt an arm drop around his shoulders and silently congratulated himself on not flinching out of his skin. Taking a deep breath, he realized the cologne belonged to Kurt, which made him feel better, especially when the older boy began tugging him back against his chest. When Kurt's palm came to rest over Blaine's heart, he knew the other boy could feel it racing – although he wasn't sure if Kurt suspected that had more to do with _his_ presence than that of the football players.

"Why all the interest in our young Mr. Anderson, gentlemen?" Kurt drawled out slowly. "Wanting to try out a cock that doesn't belong to you?" he taunted with his sexy smirk.

The lead bully took a step towards Kurt before being grabbed by two other players. "Fuck you, Hummel. That's disgusting," he shouted.

Kurt's smirk grew, pleased he was getting under Colin Stoddard's skin. The junior really was an asshat. "No. It really isn't, Colin. And the _truth_ of the matter is, there are _five_ of us in this room right now who know that to be true. On a _feeling_ level, if you can pick up what I'm putting down. Lucky for _some_ of you, I don't suck and tell. So why don't you take your homophobic selves out of the locker room and go find somewhere else to have your circle jerk."

Grumbling, the players started to leave. Kurt stopped them with his voice. "And gentlemen? Anderson, here, is a Cheerio. Fuck with him again, and Santana and I will deal with you."

Only after the locker room door had slammed shut did Kurt allow himself to relax, although he did keep his arm wrapped around Blaine who had begun to tremble. Slowly he turned and leaned back against the bank of lockers.

"Blaine? Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

Blaine nodded, unsure how to feel about Kurt's arm still wrapped around his chest. Then he felt Kurt's other arm snake around his waist, pulling him further back into the cheer captain's chest.

Kurt buried his nose in Blaine's hair. "Are you sure? Because you're shaking," he whispered. "Don't tell me what you think I want to hear, Blaine. I need the truth. They didn't touch you, did they?" He couldn't help tightening his hold on Blaine at the frightening images that went through his mind.

Blaine placed his hands on Kurt's arms, softly caressing his pale skin. "No, they didn't touch me," he reassured quietly. "I can protect myself, you know," he added with touch of defensiveness. The last thing he wanted was for Kurt to think he was weak.

Kurt smiled into Blaine's hair. "Sssshhh. I don't think you're weak, Hobbit." He brushed his lips against Blaine's temple, aware that the younger boy's trembling increased when he did so. "Maybe you _can_ – protect yourself. But that was eight against. You aren't Superman." Kurt slid down the lockers, taking Blaine with him, until he was sitting on the floor, with Blaine between his knees, back to his chest.

After a few minutes of silence, Kurt asked, "Is this too weird?"

"Um. A little," admitted Blaine, although he made no move to climb out of Kurt's embrace.

Kurt's chest shook slightly as he held back his laughter. "Sorry, not sorry," he retorted. "It's nice to just sit here." He made no attempt to cover the fatigue he was feeling.

"I…I could go…now, Hummel. I mean, if you need to go home." Blaine made a token effort to pull away from Kurt who held on tight.

"You could. But, no. I apologize for not being clearer. When I said '_It's nice to just sit here_,' what I meant was: It's nice to sit here _with you_. I like you, Blaine. You make me laugh – you don't take anyone's crap but you're so adorably polite about it. It's…refreshing."

They continued to sit there, content just be in each other's presence until Kurt broke the silence again. "You have amazing curls. I just want to sit under an enormous shade tree in the middle of nowhere, with your head in my lap and run my fingers through them for forever," Kurt admitted drowsily, one hand combing soothingly through Blaine's damp hair.

Turning his head which was resting on Kurt's shoulder, Blaine was surprised to find Kurt's eyes closed, his face completely relaxed. He was speechless, when Kurt added hoarsely, "Or feel you brush them against my cock."

Kurt's eyes snapped wide open, looking right at Blaine. He flushed red in realization that Blaine had heard his last comment. "And I said that aloud. _Fuck_," he muttered staring up at the ceiling tiles, head banging against the locker noisily.

Blaine shifted slightly, turning into Kurt's embrace. Head down, he focused on playing with the buttons on Kurt's black collared shirt. "Did…did you mean it?

His voice was so quiet, Kurt almost missed his question. "_Hey_, look at me." Tilting his head, Kurt waited until Blaine's gaze met his own.

"Why would you ask that?" Kurt continued to run his fingers through Blaine's curls, thankful that no one had walked into the locker room to interrupt this moment.

Looking every bit the fifteen year old boy that he was, Blaine shrugged his shoulders.

"_Blaine_? Please answer me." Kurt was surprised when Blaine sat up, pulling away from Kurt enough so he could wrap his arms around his knees.

"Because you're a _senior_. And _captain_. And you call me _names_ –" he mumbled into his arms.

Kurt reached out to grab Blaine's shoulder. "Wait, _what_ are you talking about?"

Blaine's frustration came through just a bit. "Hobbit. New Kid. The Boy Who Cheered. I wasn't even sure you _knew_ my name until you used it a few minutes ago."

"_Blaine_ –" Kurt began.

"And you called me _adorable_. That's like…the kiss of death, Kurt. You call your _puppy_ adorable or your _baby_ _cousin_. Not a guy that you're interested in, the guy you find attractive in a "Gosh, he's hot" way." Blaine turned so he was able to look at Kurt's face, still seated between the other boy's legs.

He reached out to take Kurt's hand, and began tracing the lines of his palm with a finger. "I don't know how to read you, Kurt," he explained with a sigh. "You zig when I'm expecting you to zag. You _seem_ to be flirting with me and you don't with the other guys on the squad." He met Kurt's eyes briefly. "I _know_. I've been paying attention," he admitted shyly.

Dropping Kurt's hand, Blaine wrapped his arms around his knees again, hiding his face. "I don't even know if you like me like that or if we would even be allowed to date, since you're captain. You call me adorable, and get all touchy-feely in front of the football team, saying it's because you wanted to 'protect' me but then tell me you've been thinking about rubbing your…your-" Blaine flushed bright red.

Although he knew Blaine couldn't see it, Kurt smiled at him while offering the word Blaine seemed unable to say. "My cock?"

Blaine swallowed. "Yes, **_that_** – through my hair. What do you _want_ from me, Hummel? Can you just _tell_ me?" Higher and shakier than when he started, Blaine's voice exposed just how overwhelmed he was feeling. "Because these mixed messages are killing me."

Kurt ran his hands up his face and into his hair, gathering his thoughts. He felt so bad for making Blaine feel this way. "It was never my intention to make you feel like this Blaine. I'm sorry for not being clear or _clearer_. Sometimes I forget that you're only a sophomore." Kurt felt Blaine flinch at his words and start to pull away from him.

He placed his hand on Blaine's back, rubbing slow circles on it. "No, don't be defensive. I'm only saying that because there is a world of difference between who you are now, and who you will be two years from now. God, remind me to show you video from my sophomore year. Then you'll know I'm telling the truth," he said with more than a touch of self-deprecation.

Placing his hand under the sophomore's chin, Kurt gently turned Blaine's head until he could look once again at those honey-gold eyes. "I _like_ you, Blaine. I meant that when I said it. I'm really attracted to you." He leaned forward until his lips were just brushing Blaine's ear lobe. Take what he hoped was a small risk, Kurt placed a gentle kiss there, delighting in the shiver than ran through Blaine's body.

His voice rough, Kurt continued laying things out for Blaine. "I've spent more hours than I care to count the past several weeks imagining you in all sorts of _delicious_ scenarios, most requiring us to wear little - if any - clothing." Clearing his throat, Kurt leaned back just slightly.

"I'd be satisfied being friends with you, Hobbit. But I'd be happier if we could be _more_ – if that's something _you're_ interested in. Honestly, Blaine, if I'm coming on too strong, just _tell_ me. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. Ever. _Tell_ me when I step out of line. I won't do it again, I promise."

"And one more thing – everyone gets a nickname. Haven't you heard Satan call me Porcelain? Lady Gay? Pretty Pony"

Looking confused, Blaine shook his head. "No, I haven't."

Kurt took one of Blaine's hands between both of his, holding it firmly. His words were honest, and came from a loving place. "You're short. You've got curly hair. I've got a pale complexion and pear hips. Guess what? We're _both_ gay. I'm kinda glad about that last one, by the way. So _own_ it, Hobbit. Because Satan will be giving us both hell when she realizes we're together."

Blaine looked up in surprise. "_Together_?"

Realizing his presumption, Kurt immediately began to back pedal. "I'm sorry, Blaine. I just…_fuck_. I don't mean to assume. How about _you_ tell me what you want? Then maybe we can find a different place to continue this conversation. That is, if there's something else to talk about." Kurt studied Blaine carefully.

It didn't take very long for Blaine to make his decision. Rolling up on to his knees, he pushed Kurt's legs together, then threw his leg over so he was straddling the head cheerleader's lap. Kurt's sharp intake of breath told him he'd actually surprised the older boy with his boldness. Placing his hands on Kurt's shoulders, he gazed at him.

Taking a breath, Blaine admitted, "I've never…kissed a guy before," he admitted quietly, tracing Kurt's lips with his index finger. "But I really, _really_ would like it…if _you_ would kiss me," he blurted quickly before he lost his courage.

Kurt grasped his t-shirt, and yanked Blaine to his mouth, hard. Bringing his fingers up to the back of Blaine's head, Kurt held him in place as he thoroughly kissed the sophomore. The younger man gasped when Kurt pulled his lower lip into his mouth, sucking lightly and let out a guttural moan after Kurt licked his way into Blaine's mouth.

"_Fuck_, B. You're too hot for your own good," murmured Kurt kissing and sucking his way down Blaine's neck. Pulling Blaine's t-shirt down to reveal his collar bone, Kurt latched on, biting lightly and then flicking his tongue across the bruised skin. Blaine was quickly becoming a whimpering mess above him only adding fuel to the fire.

"You know, when I came in here, it was because…I…I owe you an apology, Blaine." Kurt was finding it difficult to form a coherent sentence, as Blaine was nipping the skin from below Kurt's ear to his shoulder. "_Damn_, New Kid, for someone who claims he's never done this – you're a…you…oh, _god_, right _there_…Ssshhit, babe."

Fighting to catch his breath, Kurt fought to complete his thought. "Earlier, at practice…I was a total dick." He emphasized the word with an upward thrust of his hips, which had Blaine moaning Kurt's name. "I'm sorry."

Pulling away, Blaine placed his forehead against Kurt's, staring into his eyes "If _this_ is how you apologize to me, Kurt, then you have my permission to be a _dick_ to me more often. Fuck, _Kurt_. You feel so good. Please don't stop." Brushing his lips against Kurt's, Blaine quickly deepened the kiss, savoring the feeling of Kurt's tongue sliding against his own.

Kurt brought his hands down to Blaine's hips, holding the sophomore in place as he thrust up against him. "Not stopping. Stopping bad. Kissing good. Ummmm...oh, god, yes. Blaine like **that**, babe. Do _that_…oh fuck _me_, yes **that**…_please_ again." The friction against his cock felt amazing, and Kurt knew he'd be lying if he said the idea that anyone could walk in and catch them rutting against each other didn't turn him the fuck on.

Rucking up Kurt's t-shirt, Blaine ran his hands over the planes of Kurt's smooth chest. "_Kurt_?" Blaine went from amazing sex god to insecure sophomore with one look. "Kurt, should we…I mean, I don't wanna, but…should we do this here?" he was clearly conflicted.

Kurt reached up to pull him into another kiss. "What do you want, Hobbit? Do you want to stop? We can, if that's what you want. No pressure," he reassured.

"**No**! No, Kurt, I…I want to…to do this…I don't wanna stop messing around. I just…didn't know if we should move to somewhere more private? With a lock?"

Kurt continued to thrust up slowly against Blaine. "I don't know about you, Hobbit, but I'm not really in any condition to walk through the school to my car. My vote is to stay here and take care of each other. Round Two can be at a location to be determined," he growled out.

Falling forward to clutch Kurt's forearms, Blaine gasped, "_Shit_, I'm so close."

Kurt chuckled quietly. "Stand up for me."

"What?"

"Stand up. So I can go lock the door. You can park your amazing ass on that bench. I'll be right back and then, I'm gonna make you fall apart."

Blaine stumbled to the bench, straddling it. Kurt was back almost instantly, asking, "How do you want it?"

"Huh?" Blaine felt like such an imbecile.

Kurt slowly pushed at Blaine's chest until the other boy reclined on the bench. Bracing one hand one the bench for balance, Kurt carefully brought his crotch down to rub against Blaine. "We can keep this up, but shit's gonna get real messy and Satan will know something went down when we show up in different clothing."

Seeing Blaine's eyes widened with recognition, Kurt backed off slightly, bringing one of his knees up between Blaine's legs so he could continue to balance over him. Leaning forward carefully, Kurt kissed Blaine's swollen lips again, before continuing.

"Option two," he rasped, "to quote Katy Perry: you let me put my hands on you...without your skin tight jeans. Or, option three, I wet my whistle, baby. It is totally your choice. I just need to see you fall apart." Watching his pupils dilate with arousal, Kurt waited for Blaine to answer.

Finally, Blaine managed to stutter out, "H. .hand. Touch me. Please, Kurt. I need…" whatever he meant to say was lost in a deep moan as Kurt dropped his hand down to cradle Blaine's generous erection.

"I know what you need, babe. Pull your shorts down for me."

Quick to obey, Blaine shucked his shorts down low enough that his cock was now brushing against his stomach, and tucked an arm under his head to watch.

Kurt's eyes widened at the sight before him, licking his now dry lips. "Oh, Blaine. You have a beautiful cock. I…" Kurt lowered his lips to place a light kiss on the tip before snaking his tongue out and swiping it across. He smirked as Blaine whimpered at the touch. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself."

Kurt wrapped a hand firmly around Blaine, stroking him slowly. Blaine couldn't help but thrust up into his hand. "More," was all he was able to get out.

Sliding closer, Kurt forced Blaine's thighs to open even further. "More what, Blaine? Use your words," he teased, slowing down his motions. Sliding his free hand up under Blaine's shirt, Kurt ran his thumb across Blaine's nipple. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

At this point, Blaine's eyes were closed tight, so focused on his pleasure, that he'd given up watching. "H. . Fast…faster. _Fuck_, _Kurt_." He could barely hold it together. " …can I .change my mind?" he asked with moan.

Kurt snickered. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, immediately releasing Blaine and sliding backwards on the bench.

"NO!" Blaine shot up and grabbed Kurt's hand, pulling them back together. "No, that's not what I meant." Linking their fingers together, Blaine blushed as he guided Kurt's hand back to where it had been. Leaning closer, Blaine kissed Kurt as they slowly stroked his erection together. "Please keep touching me, Kurt."

Kurt gently guided Blaine backwards, somehow managing not to break their kiss or the rhythm of his hand. "I would if you wanted me to. Stop, that is. Even though you, spread out like this, is the hottest fucking thing I have _ever_ seen. What did you want, babe? Do you want my mouth on you? Is that what you want?" Kurt moved so that his entire body was hovering just inches from Blaine, staring hard into Blaine's eyes. "Say it," he demanded huskily.

Pulling in a shaky breath, Blaine pushed himself up enough so he could connect their lips again. After a heated exchange, Blaine dropped back down to the bench, closing his eyes and throwing an arm across them. "I want it, Kurt. I want you. Your mouth. On my cock. Doing filthy filthy things."

Blaine had had many fantasies about what his first blow job would feel like. But nothing in his very active imagination even compared to the amazing combination of heat and suction, push and pull of Kurt's very talented mouth. Only too quickly he was trying to pull Kurt off, feeling it was the right thing to do.

Growling, Kurt moved back up Blaine's body, thrusting his tongue into Blaine's mouth without warning. Yanking his head away, Kurt nuzzled into Blaine's ear. "Did you not get the memo. Wet my whistle, baby. Do I need to be more descriptive, _Anderson_." With one more swipe of his tongue against Blaine's ear, Kurt slid back to take Blaine into his mouth once again.

It took only moments before Blaine felt himself release, doing his best not to shout. Breath heaving he ran his fingers affectionately through Kurt's hair, as Kurt continued to lick his softening erection. Then Kurt was pulling him into a sitting position, guiding Blaine's hand so it wrapped around his own neglected cock.

"Mmmm…" he moaned quietly. "Just like that, Blaine." Kurt's free hand found its way into Blaine's curls, where held on tightly. Brushing his lips lightly against Blaine's, Kurt continued to guide the other boy's hand up and down his length. "Kiss me. I need you to kiss me."

Blaine thought it was a little gross, given where Kurt's mouth had just been, but wasn't going to deny the guy who'd just given him an amazing blow job a kiss. God, it was just a fact that Kurt Hummel was able to do amazing things with his tongue. Relaxing into the kiss, Blaine continued to follow Kurt's lead, trying to memorize just how the senior enjoyed being touched through his moans and whimpers.

"Come here," Blaine whispered, shifting them both so that Kurt was seated in Blaine's lap, cradled in the arm not engaged in jerking him off. "Look at me, Kurt," he asked quietly. When Kurt finally opened his eyes, Blaine offered his own smirk. "Do you like this? Did watching me come for you turn you on real good?" Kurt bit his lip, so Blaine bent his head to kiss it better.

Nuzzling Kurt's ear, Blaine continued to whisper his inappropriate thoughts, knowing the words were making Kurt just as hot as his actions. "No one's ever done that to me before, Kurt. No one's ever put their hands on me." Blaine enjoyed the shudder that passed through Kurt, knowing he was the one who caused it. "No one's ever put their mouth on me, Kurt. Does the thought of you being my first turn you on? I was an innocent baby penguin when I walked in to the locker room this afternoon, and now…now, Kurt Hummel, Cheerio captain, wrapped his mouth around me, giving me the best orgasm of my life so far. Do you think…"

Blaine paused, taking in the flush spreading across Kurt's face and neck, as he began to thrust faster into Blaine's hand. "Do you think I can make you come, Kurt? The curly haired, new kid hobbit who until he met you was as baby penguin as they come. Can I? Because I really wanna watch you fall apart."

Blaine must have said something right, because moments later, Kurt was frantically plunging his tongue into Blaine's mouth, holding his head in place with both hands, as he thrust into Blaine's fist. Hot wetness spread across Blaine's hand to accompany Kurt's whimpers of pleasure.

It took a few minutes before Kurt regained his breath and was able to sit up on his own. Looking carefully at Blaine, he offered a shy smile. "That was…wow."

Blaine reached his clean hand back to scratch at his neck, a pink flush creeping across his face. "Um…yeah. Best locker room encounter I've ever had." He stood carefully, tucking himself back into his shorts, and straightening his shirt.

There was a rustle of clothing before Kurt reached out to take Blaine's hand. "Hey," he said, standing up and looking down slightly at Blaine. "I know I talk a good game – but you need to know…_I_ need you to know that that's all it is. _Talk_. Game. Including you, I've kissed three guys in my life, Blaine. I don't…mess around."

Blaine looked confused as he reached in his locker for a towel to wipe himself with. "Then why me?" he asked genuinely curious.

Kurt took the towel from Blaine and wiped away the evidence of their encounter. Looking backwards, he tossed it into the laundry basket before looking back at Blaine. Slowly he reached up to place his hand on the side of Blaine's face, stroking his thumb across Blaine's cheek. "Because I've been attracted to you since you said 'Hi. I'm new here. Can I ask you a question?' You're adorable and smart and funny and –" Kurt leaned in until his lips were up against Blaine's ear, "So fucking hot when you're moaning my name."

Kurt moved forward until he had backed Blaine into the bank of lockers. Tilting his head, he placed a soft kiss on Blaine's lips, careful to not let it get out of control. "Look, I know I should have asked this before we...did these naughty naughty things. Blaine, would you…can I take you out on a date? Would you be interested?"

A relieved laugh escaped Blaine's lips. "Of course, dummy."

"Look, it's after 3:00 pm, probably closer to 4:00. Do you want to come over to my house for the rest of the afternoon? We have air conditioning. Maybe you can stay for dinner? And no, I'm not counting this as our date."

Blaine smiled widely. "I'd like that. I'd like to get to know you better."

"Oh, I think we got to know each other pretty darn well there, Anderson," teased Kurt as he gestured for Blaine to lead the way out of the locker room.

Blaine flushed and shoved Kurt away playfully. "Can I have a ride?"

"Anytime you want one, Hobbit."

Looking over his shoulder, Blaine raised his eyebrows. "I'm not _that_ small," he retorted, trying not to react to Kurt's over the top innuendo.

"No, you certainly aren't."

"_Kuuurt_," whined Blaine. "Enough."

Reaching around Blaine, Kurt slapped his palm on the exit door to the locker room preventing Blaine from pulling it open. Gently he wrapped his other arm around Blaine's waist, pulling him back against his chest. "I don't think I'll ever have enough of you, _Anderson_." Dropping a quick kiss on Blaine's temple, Kurt released him and followed him out into the afternoon heat.

* * *

**_End Note:_** You'll find fans and ice cold beverages near the door as you exit. Hope you enjoyed this installment & will consider returning for more. For those of you who've been reading _Shove Me into Shallow Waters_, I'll be returning there soon- the chapters are just way longer and it's a different head space for me when I write for that story. Happy Sunday.


	5. Did You Lick Him?

**_A/N: _**_BilliMonroe this one is for you. Go get your iced coffee first. Your messages made my day. I promise you the shower scene in chapter 6._

**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is__ rated M for adult language and sexual situations. If either of these things will make you uncomfortable, then it is best you find another story to read._

**_Disclaimer:_**_I__ do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed._

* * *

Three weeks into the school year Blaine finally felt like he was getting his feet under him. It wasn't like any one particular area of his life was more challenging than the next. But when you combined his new school, new friends, new classes, with the intensity of being a Cheerio – it all left him feeling exhausted – mentally and physically.

On top of that, Mother Nature had decided to gift Ohio with a record breaking heat wave. Record breaking not only because of _how_ hot it was, but also for the consecutive number of days the thermometer had stayed above ninety degrees. The power grid had failed five times that Blaine could count – plunging the city and surrounding areas – into blistering heat-filled days and nights.

There was "talk" of cancelling school until the heat spell broke – but the school board declined to take action unless and until other districts made the same decision first. As the school's Athletic Director, Coach Beiste had made an across the board decision that all fall sports were to cease holding practice until the heat relented. That meant no football, no cross-country, no girls' field hockey, no girls' tennis, no girls' volleyball until further notice.

Unfortunately, cheerleading wasn't considered a sport – therefore Coach Sylvester felt it was within her purview to continue Cheerio practice as scheduled.

An hour after classes had let out for the day, the eleven of the twelve members of the stunt squad faced each other in the large gym, trying not to grumble too much, since they were all in the same boat. Mike and Sam had managed to drag two enormous fans out from some hidden closet and were working to connect them to a series of extension cords so the group could at least have some air flow. Kurt, Zachary and Drew dragged the mats out while Quinn and Santana set up the sound system.

No one wore one scrap more clothing than was absolutely necessary. And no one cared.

"Hummel? Where the hell is your Hobbit?" Santana yelled across the gym, pissed the sophomore was late.

On his knees rolling out the heavy mats, Kurt glared at Santana. "I haven't had time to GPS his ass, Satan. Fuck if I know. Try texting him."

She had just sent an irate message to Anderson, when he strolled into the gym, 10 minutes late. "Nice of you to join us Boy Who Cheers. You know the consequence of showing up late to practice, right?" Santana stood with a hand on her hip, twirling her ponytail with the other.

Hanging his head, Blaine answered quietly. "Yes, Santana. Can I at least explain why I'm late?" he asked, knowing what her answer was going to be but trying anyway.

"Sure, Hobbit," she replied, "just as soon as you finish running laps. 10 minutes. 4 laps per minute. Count 'em loud for us." She eyed Kurt, expecting him to protest – surprised to see him shrug instead. Everyone on the team knew the consequences of being late. Blaine wouldn't get special favors.

Sam ambled over to Kurt, pulling him aside. "Dude, he shouldn't be running in this heat. He'll end up with heat stroke," he observed with concern while using his t-shirt to wipe his forehead and chest.

Rolling his eyes, Kurt tried to brush off Sam's concerns. "Don't you think that's a bit of an exaggeration, Sam?" He stood up and wiped his hands on his shorts to dry them.

"No. It's not. My uncle is an EMT. I spent the summer working in the firehouse and riding along with him. Three times we transported people with heat exhaustion or heat stroke. It sneaks up on people – and people can die from it, Kurt." Sam's eyes followed Blaine as he began to jog slowly around the gym.

"Anderson!" Sam yelled. "Dump your shirt, dude."

Blaine waved away the suggestion without looking at Sam. "I'm good, thanks."

Chewing on his bottom lip, Kurt looked concerned. Sam wasn't one to embellish his stories. "Okay, look…it's his first time being late and we can't just ignore that. **I** can't ignore that – because the others are gonna think it's because we're…well, whatever the hell we are. Let's just keep an eye on him," Kurt commented quietly so only Sam could hear.

Sam frowned. "I _get_ it. I don't _like_ it. But I _get_ it." Walking towards where he others were stretching on the mats, Sam paused and looked over his shoulder. "I'm gonna grab the first aid bag from Coach's office. Just in case," he offered.

* * *

In the blazing heat of the gym sweat poured off of everyone regardless of how little they were actually doing. Blaine, however, looked like he had taken a plunge in the deep end of a pool. Smart enough to grab his water bottle when he started, Blaine kept taking small sips while jogging knowing that replenishing fluids was important. So focused on putting one foot in front of the other and remembering what lap he was on, Blaine wasn't even conscious of the fact that he'd finished his water until Kurt pressed a new, ice-cold bottle into his hand when he ran past.

He was somewhere near lap 28 or 29, daydreaming about taking Kurt to the water slide park in Columbus, when someone stood in his path, causing him to stumble. Looking up, he realized who it was. "Oh, hey Sam." He acknowledged while trying to move around the blonde boy. Sam held on to his arms.

"Dude, stop. You're gonna make yourself sick," he ordered.

Blinking to clear his vision, Blaine shook his head. "I was late. I need to finishhh." Again, he tried to move around Sam. But then, suddenly, he was on the gym floor staring up at the stained ceiling tiles. They were waaaay up high and a few were missing. Blaine wondered if they'd flown away like birds. "I like birds," he said, clearly not entirely there.

He could tell his friends were worried, because Sam, then Kurt and Mike were all close to him, calling his name. They were being really loud. "Ssshhh," he slurred. Mike began to tug off his shoes and socks. "Hey, stop that. Those are my shoes!" he protested weakly trying to pull his feet away.

Sitting down, Kurt pulled Blaine up by the armpits into his lap, Blaine's back to his chest. Ignoring the vivid memories of being in this position not so long ago, Kurt held up a water bottle to Blaine's lips, encouraging the sophomore to drink a little bit more of the cold water. "That's it, Hobbit, not too much at once. We don't want you to get sick," he murmured in Blaine's ear.

Sam was kneeling next to Blaine, hand around his wrist taking his pulse. Without looking up from his watch, he started directing the others. "Mike, I need you to find the coldest water bottle and three towels. Wet them down and put one over each foot and the other over his head. Zachary. Drew. Point the fans this way to help cool him down. Santana. Go get three ice packs from the first aid kit and bring them to me. Rosemary. Sage. Go find Beiste and Coach Sylvester and bring them here. Quinn. Go to the nurse. Tell her we need a thermometer, ASAP." The entire time he was giving directions, Sam's tone was calm, but grave.

As soon as Santana brought the ice packs over, Sam twisted them so the chemical reaction would start. He placed one under each of Blaine's armpits and the third he wrapped in a t-shirt and handed it to Kurt. "Put it on the back of his neck. We'll give it three minutes. If he keeps rambling like this, we're going to have to carry him to the showers to cool him down that way – and call for an ambulance. "

Blaine reached a hand up and ran his fingers through Kurt's hair, trying to get the older boy to come closer. "You wanna shower with me, Kurt? Mmmm. Not sure I'm ready for that, yet. Wanna see you naked though."

Kurt laughed with the other cheerleaders at Blaine's complete lack of a filter. "I'm sure you do, Hobbit. It _is_ a sight to behold. Can you tell me what day it is?"

"It's a school day, silly. That's why we're here. If it wasn't, then we could be at my house swimming. I'd like to be swimming, Kurt. It's so hot. You're hot. That's why I brought the spray bottles, 'cause we're all hot," Blaine continued with his stream-of-consciousness answers, although they were beginning to make more sense than the bird comment from earlier.

"Blaine? What spray bottles are you talking about?" asked Kurt wanting to know if this was another heat-induced hallucination.

Blaine flopped a hand towards the bags sitting on the bleachers where he'd left them. "The ones in my bags. I brought spray bottles for everyone. I asked the cafeteria lady to keep them in the refrigerator so they'd be super cool – it's why I was late."

Santana sighed heavily. "Well don't I feel like shit.

"Nah, Santa. Satin. Santana. I was late. It's not yer fault I can't take the heat," he attempted to reassure the girl.

Sam looked up at Kurt. "I want to take his shirt off to help with the cooling. His pulse is better and the flush is leaving his face, but he's not out of the woods. Can you help support his weight while I pull it over his head?" Sam removed the icepacks and towel, putting them to the side before reaching for the bottom of Blaine's soaked t-shirt.

Blaine, who had up been content to sit quietly in Kurt's arms until now, twisted violently way from Sam's hands, almost throwing himself over Kurt's leg. He felt Kurt's arms tighten around him, and he couldn't help his body's reaction to this – despite his head knowing that Kurt and Sam only wanted to help him. "No! Don't touch me!" he tried to yell. It came out as more of a croak.

Kurt released his hold on the boy, even though he instinctively only wanted to comfort him.

Trying to stand, Blaine's legs wouldn't cooperate. They collapsed under his weight and the ground rushed up at him until Kurt's arms caught him up again. "Hey there, Tiger. Remember when I said you weren't Superman? Let us help you, babe," Kurt implored. Blaine's eyes were closed tightly, while he trembled violently in Kurt's arms.

Putting his mouth next to Blaine's ear, Kurt whispered, "You're scaring me, B. Do you need me to let go? Is my holding you what's bothering you?" Kurt loosened his grip but didn't take his arms away totally.

Shaking his head, Blaine ducked into Kurt's shoulder. Arms wrapped tight around himself, Blaine continued to take deep shuddering breaths, fighting to control his emotions. He could feel Sam replacing the wet towels over his feet and someone holding the icepack to the back of his neck.

With no concept of how long it actually took to get control back, Blaine finally settled down. "I…I don't want…I don't want to take my shirt off. I don't want you to see…" Quiet to begin with, Blaine's voice petered out at the end.

Sam placed a hand on Blaine's knee, squeezing gently. "Blaine? You have heat exhaustion. If we don't cool you off quickly, it could progress to heat stroke and you could go into seizures or worse. I'd like to have you take your shirt off because it's trapping your body heat. If we take it off, the fans will be able to evaporate your sweat properly."

Sam could tell the two boys were talking to each other but their whispers were so quiet he couldn't hear what was being said. Not that he cared. He just wanted to make sure Blaine would be okay. Slowly Blaine pulled away from Kurt's chest, sitting up on his own. Hesitantly, he fingered the bottom of his shirt before finally yanking it over his head. "Happy, Sam?" he said with no emotion.

He settled back into Kurt's chest, keeping his eyes shut, not wanting to see the looks of pity or disgust on their faces. Several of the girls gasped, but no one said anything. He could hear the door to the gym open and shut – and then the voices of the Gartin twins. Rosemary or Sage (because no one could tell the identical juniors apart, not even their parents) blurted, "Coach Beiste isn't on campus," followed by the other twins comment, "Neither is Coach Sylvester."

Still taking charge, Sam came to a decision. "Okay, then. Kurt and I are going to move Blaine into the boys' locker room. You all should clean up in here. Santana and Quinn – cancel practice. Today and tomorrow's. This is ridiculously dangerous," he stated firmly.

* * *

Neither Kurt nor Sam commented on the wicked scar running from behind Blaine's back to just under his rib cage while moving the boy. Deep purple bruising surrounded the scar.

Sam went directly to the shower stalls and turned the water on so it was cool but not icy cold. He left Kurt to help Blaine out of his shorts – thinking to himself that there was a fair chance this wasn't the first time he'd done so. Looking around, he snagged a white plastic chair from the weight training area and slid it into place under the water. Now Kurt wouldn't have to hold Blaine up the entire time.

Walking up to the two boys who were wearing towels around their waists, Sam explained his plan. "Okay, Kurt, things are set up in the shower. There's a chair for you, Blaine. You need to stay under for at least 5 minutes. Kurt, if he starts getting sick, or seizing, just lower him to the floor and turn off the water. I'm gonna go get your car, crank up the A/C and move it so it's outside the gym doors. That way we can limit Blaine's exposure to the heat." Holding out his hand expectantly, Sam smiled as Kurt begrudgingly handed over the keys to his baby.

Kurt bent over and wrapped Blaine's arm around his shoulders, keeping his arm around his waist. "Shower time, Hobbit," he teased. Just as they walked into the showers, Kurt called out to Sam, "I owe you big time for this Evans."

Sam laughed. "Dude, your dad lets me stay for free at your house. You and Finn have never complained about having to share your space. And I like the Hobbit," he said with a smile.

"He's mine, Evans," Kurt replied possessively.

"Really? Did you lick him?" teased Sam.

"_He's_ right here," commented Blaine.

"Yes, I did," replied Kurt without shame.

Sam took a deep breath. "TMI, Kurt. TMI."

* * *

Depositing Blaine in the plastic chair, Kurt returned to his locker to grab some body wash. The purpose of the shower was to continue cooling Blaine down – but they'd both been drenched with sweat, so a little washing wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He looked up to see Mike standing at the end of the lockers holding a bottle of Gatorade.

"I'll keep people out. Here, I thought Blaine could use this," he said, tossing the bottle at Kurt who caught it easily.

"Thanks, Chang."

"Tell Hobbit I hope he feels better."

Kurt opened the bottle, handing it to Blaine who held it in his towel covered lap. "Mike brought you that. If you feel up to it, take some small sips. You've been sweating so much – it'll help you replace the salts and electrolytes from your body."

That said, Kurt stood behind Blaine, pouring a good amount of body wash into his palm and rubbing his hands together. Considering the possibilities, Kurt decided he'd go for a top down approach. He began rubbing the pomegranate scented wash into Blaine's curls, gently scraping his fingernails along his scalp.

"B…you promised me you would tell me if the kids at school were hurting you. Fuck, Hobbit. Who did that to you?" He asked tentatively. Blaine immediately tensed under his fingers.

"I don't want to talk about it here, Kurt," came his quick reply.

Kurt's hands drifted on to Blaine's shoulders, kneading the muscles he found there. "Blaine," he began.

"Stop it, Kurt!" Blaine said louder, scooting the chair away from Kurt. "I don't want…I can wash myself, thank you. Please stop touching me."

Kurt moved around the chair so he could look Blaine in the eye. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked with concern. "Please tell me." He made to raise a hand to Blaine's cheek but then dropped it back to his side, remembering Blaine's request.

"I don't need you to wash me. I'm not an invalid. If I smell, then leave the body wash here, and I'll do it myself. I'd really prefer it if you would just go stand over there," he gestured to the far end of the showers, "while I take care of things." There was a definite tension in Blaine's words.

Kurt pressed his lips together, still trying to figure out why Blaine didn't want his touch. "I…um, okay…sure. I'll just go over there…until you're, like, finished." Standing, Kurt squeezed out a palm full of the body wash and went to the farthest shower in the row. Stripping the towel off of his hips, the turned on the icy spray and began to wash himself down, uncaring of whether Blaine took the opportunity to gaze his fill or not.

* * *

When Sam and Kurt had learned that Blaine's parents were away on business, they'd both insisted that Blaine come to the Hummel residence for the afternoon. Blaine might have insisted on going home if it had just been Kurt, but there was no way he could deny Sam's request, given the blonde cheerleader had basically saved his life less than an hour before.

He'd been introduced to Finn, Kurt's step brother, and Carole, Kurt's step mother, before following Kurt down to his basement bedroom. It hadn't taken any more encouragement that Kurt crawling on his bed and opening his arms for Blaine to toe off his shoes and join him.

Laying on their sides, facing each other, Blaine lifted a finger to slowly trace Kurt's lips. "I'm sorry for pushing you away earlier." He admitted quietly. When Kurt went to interrupt him, Blaine replaced his finger with his own lips, kissing Kurt slowly. It was difficult to pull away before things got too heated – but he owed Kurt an explanation. Kurt might disagree, but he didn't.

"The bruising and the scar. They're old. A little over a year ago I was waiting with a friend for his dad to pick us up after a school dance. Some of our classmates decided to express their…displeasure that a couple of gays would dare come to a dance together…with a baseball bat and a crow bar."

Kurt paled, reaching for Blaine and pulling him into his embrace. "B – I'm…I'm so sorry."

From his position against Kurt's chest, Blaine was comforted by the sound of his heartbeat. "I spent three months in the hospital and another eight in rehab and outpatient physical therapy. My doctor says the bruising is permanent. It doesn't hurt. I'm just really self-conscious about it." Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Blaine pulled away from Kurt so he could sit up cross legged on the bed.

Though it was really difficult, Blaine held Kurt's gaze. "I freaked out because I didn't want the anyone to see my scar. It's hideous and constantly reminds me of how evil exists in our world. You also didn't know that being independent and in control is really important to me. Other people had to take care of me when I was in the hospital – I couldn't even go to the bathroom without help, Kurt. It was so fucking embarrassing." Blaine lost himself to the memories of that painful time for a few minutes.

Shaking his head to clear it, Blaine offered a shy smile to Kurt. "Sorry for drifting off there," he commented as Kurt pulled him down for another comforting kiss. This time Blaine lost himself in the heat and drag of Kurt's tongue against his. Kurt didn't make it easy for him to pull away this time, tightening his hold when he felt the other boy move.

"_Mmmm_, Kurt," he moaned as Kurt began to nip down his neck. "Can we…_mmm_, god that feels so good. Can we pause…just for a minute. Please?"

Pushing Blaine away, Kurt huffed and rolled his eyes. "I _guess_ we could. If that's what you _really_ want, Hobbit." Pretending to be put out, he tried not to grin – but lost the battle.

"Do you _want_ to know what I really want?" he asked huskily, pupils dilating with the surge of attraction he felt.

Kurt tucked both hands behind his head and smirked. "Enlighten me, my not-so-baby penguin," he teased.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Blaine could feel the heat return to his cheeks. "Before, at school, in the shower – I couldn't enjoy it. I was in the wrong head space." He looked nervously across the room to the collection of musical posters and playbills Kurt had pinned to his wall. "I wouldn't mind…I mean, if my scar doesn't gross you out, that is." Pausing to find the courage to voice his desires, Blaine startled to feel Kurt's hand running under his shorts, up his inner thigh.

"B? Is this your fumbling attempt at telling me you want to shower with me? That because you're feeling better and we'd be on equal terms, you would be able to enjoy my hands running up and down your naked form?" Lightly scratching his fingernails down Blaine's inner thigh, it aroused him to hear the other boy's not-so-quiet whimper.

Blaine's reply was shaky. "Yes. Yes, please. If that's what you want."

Kurt continued to tease Blaine, stroking his thigh lightly, occasionally allowing his knuckles to brush against the younger boy's hardness. "You have to do something for me first, Blaine. One thing and we'll go get you clean," he explained hoarsely.

Overcome with desire, Blaine shut his eyes to concentrate on what Kurt's hand was engaged in. "Wh…what? What do you want?" he moaned as Kurt's hand cupped him.

Rubbing his thumb lazily in circles over Blaine's erection, Kurt told him. "Take your shirt off. Right now. Strip off that shirt and come kiss me, babe, so I can show you…how fucking attractive I find you. Will you do that for me? Will you show me how brave you can be?" He sounded absolutely wreaked and they hadn't even gotten started.

Rolling away from Kurt, Blaine stood at the edge of the bed and lifted his shirt off and threw it over his shoulder. His blush deepened when Kurt blurted out the words 'fucking beautiful' before yanking off his own shirt and shucking off his shorts, leaving on just his tight navy briefs. When he grabbed his phone, Blaine had to ask.

"What are you doing?"

Not looking up, Kurt sent a text message to Finn and Sam. "Telling Finn and Sam not to bother us for the next couple hours. They'll run interference with Carole too. God knows I've done it enough times for both of them." Text sent, Kurt tossed the phone on the night stand and gazed back at Blaine. He absolutely took Kurt's breath away.

He couldn't help that his hand drifted south beneath his underwear to stroke his own length. "Fuck me, Hobbit. I could come just from looking at you." His eyes drifted shut as he concentrated on pleasuring himself. He smiled when he felt the bed dip as Blaine rejoined him, feeling the other boy settle over his thighs. When he smacked away Kurt's hand so he could take Kurt in his own, Kurt brought his hands to rest on Blaine's waist only to realize that Blaine had stripped completely.

Kurt's eyes opened in surprise. "Blaine," he groaned out. Sitting up, he placed his hands on Blaine's ass to pull him closer. Letting the sophomore chase after his lips, Kurt took his time caressing the soft, amazing flesh under his hands.

"Hobbit? When I get done with you today…you're gonna have a completely new set of bruises over your body…ones that I'm gonna put there with my mouth – so tonight…and tomorrow…and the day after that…when you look at yourself in the mirror, you'll see them and remember **just** how attractive I find you and just how many times I made you moan my name."

Blaine looked down at Kurt and smirked. "You talk a good game, Hummel. But right now – that's all it is…talk."

Arching an eyebrow, Kurt rolled them over, and began to show Blaine in actions just how well he could back up his words.

* * *

**End Note:** Thanks for reading. At some point the heat spell will have to break and the boys will cheer at an actual game. I've tried encouraging them to stop going off the plot outline into smut, but they're not having it. shrugs Thanks to WebMD for confirming my basic first aid knowledge of heat exhaustion and heat stroke.


	6. Slippery When Wet

**_A/N: _**_There is a serious lack of plot in this chapter. Yup - the author is aware of this. In fact, she actually intended this. Not moving the story forward. If sexy times isn't your thing, then skip this chapter and wait for the next. If you are still reading, then might I suggest preparing your cool drink now? a fan? [Some of you know exactly to whom I am speaking]_

**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is__ rated M for adult language and sexual situations. If either of these things will make you uncomfortable, then it is best you find another story to read._

**_Disclaimer:_**_I__ do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed. (Maybe a little tired, worn out...but unharmed)_

* * *

Chapter 6: Slippery When Wet

Glancing in the bathroom mirror, Blaine couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. Kurt was well on his way of keeping his promise to mark Blaine with signs of his affection.

The senior had used Blaine's scar as a guideline for the placement of a series of hickeys that started just under his rib and continued to his side. But instead of having Blaine roll over so he could finish following the path, Kurt had sat back on his knees, looking at a flushed Blaine with mock concern.

"I don't know, Hobbit," he rasped out, running his hands lightly over the sides of Blaine's thighs. "I think you're getting overheated, here. It might be time to cool you down. I wouldn't want you to get sick again."

Blaine pouted, tucking his hands under his head. "I _guess_ we wouldn't want that," he agreed with a shy flirty smile. "What would you suggest?" He dropped his gaze to a spot on the bedspread next to Kurt's knee before looking back up at the pale expanse of delicious skin Kurt had bared for him.

Aware that Blaine was basically devouring him with his honey-colored eyes, Kurt took a moment to stretch, reaching his arms above his head, pulling his elbow with his hand to deepen a side stretch, before repeating the movement again to the other side. Humming in satisfaction – both at the stretch and the spark of desire he saw flame up in Blaine, Kurt answered in mock seriousness. "I think it's time for that shower. I'll need to supervise, of course…for safety reasons."

Nodding thoughtfully, Blaine echoed, "_Safety_ reasons. _Of_ _course_." Sitting up against the wall, he allowed one of his hands to drift down his chest, reveling in the knowledge that Kurt was tracking its progress as it slid lower and lower still. Finally brushing his fingers against his neglected length, Blaine wrapped his fingers around it, giving a few slow, firm strokes before Kurt was yanking his hand off.

"Now, now, _Hobbit_," Kurt chastised quietly, scooting up on the bed until he was straddling Blaine's upper thighs. Reaching out his hand, Kurt took both of Blaine's hands – intertwining their fingers – then leaned forward, until he could press his lips lightly against Blaine's. "We're supposed to be _cooling_ you off, not _heating_ you up. No touching, _sweetheart_."

When he tried pouting once again, Kurt captured his lips in a fierce kiss, using his tongue to demand entrance to Blaine's mouth. In the next moment, Kurt had managed to let go of their hands, flip them over and off the bed, and was carrying Blaine towards the bathroom – all without break their kiss. It was fucking _hot_.

It wasn't until he needed his hands to turn on the water that Kurt allowed them to slip from the firm flesh of Blaine's ass, slowly sliding the sophomore down his body. Cupping Blaine's jaw with affection, Kurt dropped a series of chaste kisses to his lips and cheeks. "_This_," he traced Blaine's scar with his fingertip, drawing a shudder from the boy, "is a mark of bravery – and something you should never, ever be ashamed of."

When Kurt turned back after adjusting the water temperature, he caught a smiling Blaine staring at the line of bruises he had added to the boy with his mouth. Wrapping his arms around Blaine's waist, he pulled the sophomore back into his chest so they were both facing the mirror. Dropping his chin onto Blaine's shoulder, Kurt stared back through the steamy mirror, _very_ much aware of the effect their proximity was having – on both of them.

Blaine watched as the humid air caused his curls to tighten – the last thing he was able to see clearly in the mirror before the steam became too thick. Kurt's arm snaked lower across his pelvis to grip his hip, while the other ghosted over his torso and stomach. Closing his eyes tightly, Blaine dropped his head back and to the side, giving himself over to the sensations – and giving Kurt access to his neck. He couldn't help the whimpering moans that escaped when Kurt began biting and kissing his neck.

"_You like that, Hobbit_?" Kurt growled lowly in Blaine's ear. "Is _that_ what those noises are supposed tell me?" At Blaine's response of a whimpering "_uuuhhuumm_," Kurt chuckled lightly. "Articulate, babe."

Making sure Blaine carefully stepped over the high edge of the bathtub, Kurt guided the shorter boy under the spray of cool water before taking a seat on the edge.

Blaine allowed the water to run down from the top of his head down his body. Shuddering, he whined, "It's _cold_, Kurt."

"Yeah," Kurt said with a laugh. "It's colder than I like, but I figured we'd be warming each other up, _so_…" It was in that moment, gazing up at the beautiful young man in front of him, water droplets haphazardly tracking down Blaine's toned chest, that the emotions he'd been suppressing since Blaine's emergency, slammed into Kurt with the force of a truck. Suddenly not quite so sure of himself, Kurt dropped his gaze to his feet.

"So why are you over _there_, when you could be **_here_**, _warming me up_?" Blaine took a step forward, wiping the water from his face. When he saw Kurt's expression, he took another step forward and dropped to his knees in front of Kurt, so he could look into his face. "_Kurt_? What's wrong?" He asked in shy concern his hands resting lightly on Kurt's thighs.

Kurt shook his head firmly, staring into Blaine's eyes. "I want you **so** much…but, you…I can't…I _can't_ forget that you've never done these things before. I _don't_ _want_ to forget that, Blaine. It would be _so_ easy to let ourselves get caught up…in how this all feels physically." Kurt paused in thought.

Blaine took the opportunity to lean forward and kiss Kurt's swollen lips, feeling better when the older boy responded immediately. Without giving him warning, Blaine stood up, pulling Kurt with him, and spun the other boy around so Kurt's back hit the cold tiles of the shower.

"_Fuck_, Hobbit. That's cold," Kurt hissed, tugging Blaine closer so he could wrap his arms around the sophomore's shoulders. "Look, what I'm trying to say is…" Kurt had to stop as Blaine chose that moment to attach his lips to Kurt's collar bone, biting and sucking enough to leave a bruise. "God, _Hobbit_, could you stop for like twenty seconds while I get this out?" Kurt begged in a breathy groan.

"Nope," growled Blaine continuing to ravish Kurt.

Working a hand into Blaine's curls, Kurt tugged back, trying to get Blaine's attention for just a few more seconds. Instead of the desired effect, Blaine let out a deep moan and sucked even harder. Storing that bit of information away in his brain, Kurt considered just forgetting about things, and letting this continue on its natural course of amazing shower sexy times. _Fuck_. No, he _couldn't_. This was _too_ important. _Blaine_ was _too_ important.

Gripping Blaine's shoulders firmly, Kurt used the strength he'd earned from years of lifting girls into the air to maneuver Blaine around, forcing him against the tiled wall. Ignoring the look of surprise in Blaine's eyes, Kurt gripped both of Blaine's wrists, slowly bringing them up above his head. Blaine's eyes flared with desire at the new position, and Kurt struggled to keep his wrists where they were. "**Stop**, Hobbit. I _need_ you to _stop_." He said firmly, putting as much distance between their bodies as he could while maintaining control.

When Blaine pushed forward again, Kurt dropped one of his hands to Blaine's chest, holding him steady. "**No**! Blaine, I'm serious. You need to stop, right now, or I walk out of here and this is over," he said loudly, voice echoing in the small space. Kurt watched as Blaine deflated in front of him. "_Thank_ _you_," he said more quietly.

Taking a step forward, Kurt caught both of Blaine's hands in his, intertwining their fingers together above Blaine's head. Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss on Blaine's forehead, then rested his against Blaine's, closing his eyes. Knowing he had Blaine's full attention, Kurt spoke quietly.

"Blaine…you need to understand…I'm _trying_ to be the responsible one here. I don't want us to get too caught up in how amazing it feels to be together, that we forget about all the emotional stuff. I don't want to push you."

Blaine huffed impatiently. "I don't feel pushed. I _want_ this. I **_want_** _you_, Kurt."

Kurt smiled at the whine in Blaine's voice. "Yeah, I _know_. But I also know how quickly that can change. I just…I don't want to end up being someone you regret…I don't want you to end up regretting this…being with me. Because we moved too _fucking_ fast because it feels so _fucking_ good." Kurt pulled his hands away to run them through his hair. "I really am trying to do the right thing, here. It's fucking hard." He acknowledged in exasperation.

Free from Kurt's grasp, Blaine reached a tentative hand out, brushing his fingers over Kurt's erection. "_It_ sure is," he teased quietly. "_It's_ _hard_ alright." Wrapping his fingers around Kurt, he began to stroke Kurt slow but firmly.

"**Damn** **it**, _Blaine_!" Kurt's voice betrayed his frustration, climbing an octave and trembling. "I'm not joking. _This isn't some joke to me_."

Realizing he'd unknowingly pushed Kurt to an emotional edge, Blaine released Kurt and reached for the body wash, studiously avoiding eye contact while washing his chest and arms, waiting.

It wasn't long before Kurt reached his arms around Blaine from behind, snagging the body wash so he could carefully lavish attention on every inch of Blaine's skin. Placing a firm kiss to the nape of Blaine's neck, Kurt began running his soapy hands over Blaine's stomach and chest. "I…_I have regrets_, Blaine. Big ones. Regrets that…if you had asked me freshman year…I would have told you, just as emphatically as you just did…that I _wanted_ it…that I was _ready_ for it."

Standing to one side of Blaine, digging his fingers into the sore muscles of Blaine's arms, Kurt observed the other boy carefully. Working his fingers down the length of Blaine's arm, Kurt took the boy's hand in his while reaching his other hand to caress Blaine's jaw. Turning Blaine's head to his, Kurt dropped his lips to Blaine's, enjoying the slow, wet slide of their kiss.

Pulling back slightly, Kurt gathered Blaine into his arms. He couldn't speak louder than a whisper, admitting things he hadn't even told Santana. "I made some _stupid,_ fucking choices… thinking that if I did… _things_ with a guy I liked…that he'd like me back." Kurt had to stop as he felt hot tears slip down his cheeks. Hiding his face into the crook of Blaine's neck, Kurt fought for control. Voice cracking, he admitted for the first time aloud, "I…_sold myself short_…went further than I should have. And I knew it…but I didn't want to admit it. It felt _good_, Hobbit. Orgasms _are_ fun…especially when someone else is involved." He could feel and hear Blaine's laughter at that comment, which brought a smile to his face.

Kurt gazed into Blaine's eyes. "I handed some guy my heart…thinking we had more than we did.

And he stomped on it…And with time and distance, I realize that I should have been clearer about what I wanted. What I needed. It would have saved me from some of the pain." Kurt tucked some stray curls behind Blaine's ear. "Anyway, the point of this vague trip down memory lane is this: I want everything you want to share with me, _Blaine Anderson_. And I need you to know that even if that's just your friendship…I'd be okay with that."

Blaine leaned forward to kiss Kurt, pulling his lower lip into his mouth and sucking on it lightly as he dropped his hands to rest on Kurt's ass. He lost himself in the kiss for several long moments, before he turned his head to the side. "I hear you, Kurt. _Really, I do_. But…can you trust _me_? Can you _trust_ that I know what I want? Because I trust you…I trust you to not let me down. And I promise to tell you if I'm uncomfortable…with anything."

Blaine ran his soapy palms over the globes of Kurt's ass, encouraging the taller boy even closer. He could see the moment Kurt made his decision and watched with anticipation as Kurt lifted his hands, one caressing Blaine's face, the other nestling in the curls on his head. "_Promise_ me. _**Promise** _me right now you'll stop me if…if you aren't ready," he said quietly.

"I _promise_."

"You're sure? You're sure…you want to give up your firsts to me?"

"Kurt, it is…it is _our_ first time doing these things. And yes, I'm sure. You're snarky and smart. You dress better than anyone else I know. You took the time to get to know some sophomore transfer kid when you could have just ignored me. You watch out for me. You make me feel…_attractive_."

"You **are** attractive, B. You're **hot**."

Blaine stared at Kurt's chest. "I don't _feel_ that way. Not since…" He gestured towards his scar. "No – don't interrupt. I don't see myself as attractive – but when I'm with you…when I see you look at me…like you're a starving man and I'm dessert…_Fuck_, Kurt. It does things to me." He watched with curiosity as Kurt rinsed his hand off under the water and began rubbing his thumb over Blaine's lower lip. Unable to keep his eyes open, Blaine shut them and gave himself over to the overwhelming sensations.

When Kurt pressed his thumb against Blaine's lips, he couldn't help but open his mouth, pulling it into the hot, wet heat of his mouth – languidly sucking and sliding his tongue around it.

Kurt shuddered. "Don't stop, B. Fuck, I could get off just imagining those beautiful lips wrapped around me." His voice was absolutely wreaked. When Blaine released his thumb and yanked his head down for a heated kiss, it took Kurt by surprise. Blaine hadn't been exaggerating when he said he knew what he wanted – despite his lack of experience. But from Kurt's perspective, if things didn't slow down – they were going to end sooner rather than later.

"_Sshhh_." Kurt pulled away to whisper in Blaine's ear, running his teeth along the outside of it. "Slow down for me, okay? We have all afternoon, _Hobbit_."

Blaine tried to catch his breath. "Sorry," he offered quietly.

Running his lips down Blaine's jaw, Kurt met his lips softly. "Can I show you? How _I_ like to be kissed."

Seeing Blaine nod, Kurt began dropping gentle kisses across Blaine's forehead and cheeks, then on his lips. He pulled Blaine's lips into his mouth one at a time, and gently ran his tongue over Blaine's lips, seeking permission before carefully tasting the other boy. Then he pulled away enough so he could drop kisses down Blaine's neck and shoulders to his chest and nipples. All the while, Blaine filled the air with tiny gasps of pleasure and whimpers.

Kurt wasn't sure how long they'd been in the shower, taking turns heating each other up and then cooling down again, when he finally asked, "What do you want, Blaine?"

Without a word, Blaine moved Kurt so he stood at the far end of the shower, hands on the wall, feet spread apart. Picking up the shower gel, he drizzled it over Kurt's ass, before pressing himself against Kurt. Slowly he slid up and back, reveling in the friction this created. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's chest, leaving no space between them. "Do you _like_ this, Kurt? Would you be okay bottoming for me some day? God, you feel so _fucking_ good around me."

Kurt was biting his wrist to keep from screaming out as Blaine simulated sex with him, without any actual penetration. It was so _fucking_ hot. "Love it. Don't stop, babe. Don't stop. Anything you want, just don't stop." He was babbling but he just didn't care.

"You _like_ it when I whisper dirty things to you, Hummel?" Blaine's hand drifted lower to take Kurt's cock in hand. "So hard. So big. Is _this_ for me, Kurt?"

"_Yours_," Kurt moaned, thrusting desperately into Blaine's hand.

Blaine bit down lightly on Kurt's shoulder, laving the mark with his tongue. "Your ass is perfection. Do you know how often I fanaticize about this ass? I have, Kurt. I've thought about your ass in those tight red cheer pants, and bending you over my desk in math class – working you open and sliding in…pounding into you…making you scream my name so that everyone at school knows you're mine."

He learned the first time they were together how turned on he could make Kurt with just words. Maybe one day soon he'd get the opportunity to try to make Kurt come by just talking dirty to him. "I've dreamt about going down on you on the bus…while going to an away game…sitting in the back, ducking down and taking this long, hard cock into my mouth. You having to sit still and behave so that Coach Sylvester won't catch us…can you see us doing that, Kurt?"

Kurt dropped his head against the cold tile, moaning at the filthy images parading through his head, "_Hobbit_! Shit, I'm close. So close," he managed to rasp out.

Blaine caught Kurt's earlobe between his teeth. "My name is _Blaine_…say it. Come on, Kurt. I'll make this so good for you. Say my name," he commanded.

"**Blaine**!" Kurt whimpered.

"Which fantasy turns you on the most, Kurt? Or do you have one of your own? Something even better?"

Standing up, Kurt turned around, guiding Blaine so his back was against the shower wall. "My _fantasy_?" He growled. "_You_ writhing under me, pushing my cock into your tight virgin ass as you beg for more…celebrating another national championship…cliché? Maybe." Kurt wrapped his hand around both his and Blaine's cocks, stroking them together. "Can _you_ see that, Hobbit? You and me – hotel room in Florida. Crisp white sheets…our sweaty bodies slipping against each other."

Losing himself in another slow, deep kiss, Kurt filled his over-active imagination with pictures of the erotic things he'd like to do **to** the curly-haired hobbit. And **with** him. And have done** to him** by Blaine. _Fuck._ Kurt plunged his head back into the cold water trying to cool down just a bit. As he did so, Blaine slid down the wall, until he was kneeling before Kurt.

Looking up at him, Blaine smirked. "_Kurt_? As captain of the Cheerios, I just want to tell you…I'd do just about…well, _anything_ to be a Cheerio, sir. _**Anything**_," he teased, capturing his lower lip between his teeth, letting it pull free slowly before giving Kurt his best seductive look.

"_Fuck_, Hobbit." Kurt wasn't even sure how long he could keep standing at this point.

Blaine swallowed theatrically. "I'm not sure I'm ready for you to…_fuck_ me. I can't imagine this huge thing fitting inside me." Blaine ran his thumb and middle finger around Kurt's cock in a tight circle, eliciting a groan from the senior. "But…I could…well…try this?" Blaine dropped a kiss onto the head of Kurt's cock, then carefully ran his tongue around it, attentive to the reactions of Kurt. "I've never given head before," Blaine admitted truthfully, even while maintaining his role play of an innocent newbie.

Thankful that he had the basement bedroom, and Finn and Sam were somewhere two floors above them, Kurt couldn't have contained his moans even if his life depended on it, once Blaine's mouth closed around him. Propping himself up with one hand, he stroked Blaine's curls with the other, muttering a series of what he hoped were encouraging words. Feeling a familiar tightening, he tugged on Blaine's hair to get his attention. Unfortunately, this action caused Blaine to groan around him. Kurt tried to pull away, but wasn't entirely successful.

Coughing, Blaine wiped some of the excess fluid from his chin before sitting fully on the floor of the bathtub. Kurt sank down next to him, moving Blaine's legs so they lay across his, then leaned forward to kiss the sophomore. "You…you take my breath way, Hobbit," he breathed heavily. Dropping his gaze down to Blaine's lap, he smirked. "I'll take your breath away in two minutes. Recovery. That was quite the cardio workout, Anderson."

Laughing, Blaine placed a chaste kiss on Kurt's cheek, dropping his head onto Kurt's shoulder. "That was okay, then?" he asked with a touch of insecurity.

Kurt tightened his hold around Blaine's waist. "Ignoring the fact that this was your first time sucking someone off…that was fucking fantastic. Please note that anytime you want to practice – and I do mean anytime – you just let me know. Although, we do need to work on our communication skills. I was trying to warn you, when I pulled your hair. Didn't quite have the…effect I was going for…sorry, B. I didn't expect you to…you know. That's a personal choice." Kurt dropped kisses on the side of Blaine's head.

"It was…unexpected. I…yeah…practice. We'll practice." Blaine mumbled quietly, playing with Kurt's fingers.

After a few more minutes of gentle touches and hugs, Kurt took a deep breath and looked into Blaine's eyes playfully. "So, Hobbit…I've killed my dad's water bill for the month, and before my step-brother is sent down here to see if I died in the shower, I was wondering…"

"Yes?"

"How do you want me?"

Kurt had found himself on his hands and knees in the bathtub, once again with Blaine sliding between his ass cheeks, with the help of some water based lubricant Kurt had stored in his shower caddy. It hadn't taken much in the way of friction, or Kurt's verbal encouragement before Blaine finally came – hard. So hard that he blacked out.

When he came back to reality, Blaine realized he was in Kurt's bed, under a sheet, wearing a pair of underwear that wasn't his. Lifting his head from the comfortable pillow, he finally spotted Kurt returning from the bathroom wearing only black cotton shorts. Slipping under the sheet, Kurt gathered Blaine into his arms, kissing him sweetly. "Hey, there. Nap time. Are you warm enough? The air conditioning is running – and Sam said you'd be sensitive to temperature changes for a while."

Giggling, Blaine nodded before nuzzling into Kurt's side. "I'm good. Sleepy."

"'Kay, then. Rest, B."

"You too."

"Me too, B."

* * *

They were still tightly wrapped around each other two hours later when Burt Hummel came downstairs to announce it was dinner time. Burt noted the serious scar on Kurt's friend, and the series of love bites he had a feeling his son had a hand – or mouth - in placing on the young man. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on taking three deep breaths before silently asking Elizabeth for help in making the right decision. Realizing that yelling wasn't the solution, Burt turned around and left the boys sleeping. No, yelling wouldn't help things…but one thing was certain, he and Kurt were going to have a lengthy and serious conversation about appropriate behavior before the night was over.

* * *

**_End Note:_** Hope you survived the mini-heat wave. It's actually quite nice weather here (t-shirts & shorts weather) but I realize that many of you are still probably living with snow & rain. If so, hope this helped brighten your day. Will be returning to our regularly scheduled plot next chapter - I mean, they **_are_ **Cheerios...they have to cheer at a game some time, right? Thank you to those of you who patiently wait for the next update to land in your email, and a special thanks to those of you who have taken (or will take) the time to review. Your positive comments and thoughts make my day!


	7. Friday Night Lights

**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is__ rated M for adult language and sexual situations. If either of these things will make you uncomfortable, then it is best you find another story to read._

**_Disclaimer:_**_I__ do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed. (Maybe a little tired, worn out...but unharmed)_

* * *

**Chapter 7: Friday Night Lights**

It was earlier than he normally ate, but Blaine decided that eating something light before the football game was probably for the best. He didn't have many recipes in his repertoire, but the ones that he did, were certainly delicious. As soon as he had gotten home from school, Blaine pulled out the ingredients for his grandfather's favorite: _Poor Man's Soup_. It had no meat, and was mostly chickpeas, but Blaine had learned through his grandfather's honest constructive criticism, how to get the most flavor from the simple ingredients.

Dressed in his uniform, Blaine sat together with his grandfather at the small table, eating spoonful after spoonful, with the cornbread muffins Blaine had also managed to whip up from scratch. The fact that his grandfather asked for a second and then a third bowl told Blaine he'd managed to hit a home run with the soup tonight.

"You outdid yourself tonight, Blainers," his grandfather offered gruffly. "What did you do differently?" he asked.

Swallowing his mouthful, Blaine pointed towards the bounty of summer vegetables on the counter. "I used your garden tomatoes for the tomato puree instead of canned. Gosh, you're right. It makes a huge difference, doesn't it?" He smiled at his grandfather's grunt of approval. "If I have time this weekend, maybe I'll make some more soup and freeze it. Or at least make some tomato puree we can use this winter."

At the sound of a car horn, Blaine stood up from the wooden kitchen table, slung his cheer bag over his shoulder. "That's my ride to the game, Papa. Are you okay cleaning this up?"

His grandfather waved away the question. "_You_ cooked, _I_ clean. That's the deal, boy."

Dropping a kiss on his grandfather's hair, Blaine reminded him, "I'll be back late, Papa. If you need anything, give me a call – but I might not answer right away. You can always leave me a message."

His eyes rolling, his grandfather called out, "_Blaine Devon Anderson_! I managed to live 65 years without you being on this earth and I've done just fine for the last 15 with you in it. You may look at me and see someone older than dirt, but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much." The old man grumbled, "Go have fun at your football game." He picked up his large print edition of Reader's Digest magazine, effectively ending their conversation.

"Love you too, Papa," Blaine tossed over his shoulder as he opened the front door. Seeing an unfamiliar golden minivan parked in the driveway, Blaine assumed that it was the Gartin twins coming to pick him up. He'd been informed, in no uncertain terms, that the stunt squad rode _together_ to the home games. Period. It was tradition. And one did not simple break with tradition.

Apparently Kurt would be picking up the seniors: Santana, Sam, Mike, and Hannah. Because they shared the family minivan, Rosemary and Sage had room to pick up the underclassmen: Blaine, Zachary, Drew, and Karsynn. The only one not included was Quinn; as captain of the JV cheer squad, she had to attend and perform at both games – so she'd stayed at school instead of going home in the afternoon.

At first, Blaine was disappointed that Kurt hadn't offered him a ride. But then, after further reflection, he realized that it was probably for the best. Although he hadn't really talked to Kurt about it, Blaine was still concerned about how the rest of the varsity cheerleaders would react when they realized that he and Kurt were…dating? Seeing each other? Friends with spectacularly hot benefits?

Zachary slid the door open from the inside, motioning with his head where Blaine should sit. "Back row. Sorry, dude."

Shrugging, Blaine handed him his bag so he could (as gracefully as possible) climb over Karsynn to reach the seat. Once he'd fastened his seatbelt, Blaine took his bag back, placing it in his lap. "Karsynn." He said with a smile towards the junior. They shared Spanish and Psychology classes.

Drew, a junior, was sitting in front of Blaine. Sliding sideways in his seat so he could better see Blaine, he started talking. "Okay, Anderson, when we get there, we'll need to get the mats from the gym and take them out to the track. Sam'll get the trainers' cart to drive them out, but we'll need your help lifting them. Once we set them up, we'll warm up until the start of the varsity game."

Listening intently, Blaine wasn't quite able to dodge the elbow Karsynn threw his way, in her attempt to put her hair bow in place. "Damn it!" she muttered. "I can _never_ get this right. Sorry, Blaine."

He reached over and removed the bow from her hands, studying the back of Rosemary and Sage's heads. "I need an elastic," he said.

"What?" Karsynn looked perplexed.

"I need your hairbrush and another hair tie. Come on, I've got this," he insisted.

Digging into her bag, Karsynn handed over the items to Blaine, who motioned for her to turn away from him. In under a minute he had Karsynn's hair up in a high pony with the red and white bow facing the correct direction. "There you go, Beautiful," he commented, handing the brush back to her.

Noting that everyone not driving the minivan was staring at him, Blaine gave a small shrug. "My best friend broke her arm in 7th grade. I spent three months doing her hair _every_ morning."

Everyone seemed to be satisfied with that and turned back to their pre-game rituals. Blaine took the time to stare out the window, head spinning with cheers, dance steps, and thoughts of one particular cheerleader. Soon enough, Rosemary was parking the car in an area reserved for the Cheerios and everyone climbed out and walked confidently into the school.

Blaine caught up to Rosemary, who would be working as his stunting partner. Kurt and Santana had decided to put the Gartin twins with Blaine and Zachary because the girls had the most experience 'flying' having cheered competitively through elementary and middle school. They could compensate for any mistakes that Blaine or Zach, who had roughly four weeks experience of tossing girls into the air and catching them, made. Well, that was the hope anyway.

Blaine tapped Rosemary on the shoulder. "Thanks for the ride. Would you like some gas money?" he asked politely.

She smiled widely at him. "Aw, _Hobbit_, that's so sweet. No. No money needed. We get a nice allowance. You can pay me back by not dropping me, 'kay?" She linked her arm through Blaine's, pulling him close. "Have any older brothers you could introduce me to?" she teased gently.

Blaine giggled. "One. Cooper. But he's too old for you, Rosemary."

"Age is just a number, Blaine."

"He's 26."

"And _that_ number is just a _bit_ too high for me. **And** my dad." They both laughed. "You can still introduce us, though. If he's as adorable as you, I might be interested in dating him…you know, when I'm 50 and he's 59."

Blaine stole her cheer bag from her shoulder, slipping it over his. "He's decent looking…but a bit of an _ass_. You deserve better."

"Well, just so you know…if you think you know someone…_better_. Feel free to point them in my direction." She sighed deeply as they walked into the gymnasium. "Sometimes the uniform serves as a deterrent. That and the blonde hair. Instant stereotype. Instant judgment." She looked him in the eye for a long moment before offering a shy smile. "I'm sure you've _never_ experienced that," she said with wink.

Rolling his eyes, Blaine dropped a kiss on her forehead. "Nope. _Never_."

"Hey, now! What's _this_?" Kurt carried a tray of drinks towards the other cheerleaders who helped themselves. Standing in front of Blaine, Kurt pulled the last cup out of the holder. "Smoothies. Another tradition. I got you a blueberry pomegranate. It's my favorite."

Taking the drink, Blaine took a long sip, eyes widening. "Delicious. "

Kurt stepped closer, brushing his lips against Blaine's, before deepening the kiss. He pulled away, smirking. "Yup. _Delicious_. You look so _sexy_ in that uniform. Do I need to be jealous of Rosie?" He whispered.

Blaine shook his head.

"Good. Would you…like a ride home…after the game? It'll just be me and Sam and Finn. You could come hang with us until your curfew," Kurt asked shyly.

"I'd like that. Thanks." Blaine leaned in and kissed Kurt's cheek.

"Okay, okay. I hate to break up this love fest, except I don't. We've got _shit_ to do, People." Santana interrupted their interlude as only she could. Suddenly, everyone was back in action, grabbing tumbling mats, cheer bags and a large container of water and ice.

"Do we have everything?" Santana called out, holding the gym door open to the outside. The stunt squad filed outside, placing the heavier mats on the motorized cart the athletic trainer used during the games. Sam alone had permission to drive the cart down to the field before the game, and back to the gym after the game was over.

When everything was set, Mike climbed in the back to hold the mats in place, and Sam drove slowly down to the football field. Everyone else walked.

* * *

The stands were filled to capacity with cheering fans of the McKinley Titans football team. It never ceased to amaze Kurt since, up until last season, the Titans had had a dismal record, winning two games total during his freshman and sophomore years. And yet, despite that, they still managed to fill the stands. That was life in much of small town America. Friday night lights.

Somewhere up in the parents' section, his dad was wearing his flannel shirt and ball cap, sharing an order of nachos with Carole, and cheering for Finn. Not that they didn't support Kurt, because they did. Dad and Carole came to all his regional competitions and they'd managed to find the money so that the entire family could travel to New York at Thanksgiving when the Cheerios would be performing for the _Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade_.

As the fourth quarter of the Junior Varsity game dwindled down, the other members of the varsity squad tricked down on to the track in front of the stands, tossing their bags in the pile off to the side, placing megaphones, signs, and pom poms within easy reach, then joining the Junior Varsity squad in cheering.

Short a member until the game finished, the stunt squad continued loosening up their muscles, until Kurt waved Zachary and Blaine over. "Let's see your basic lifts. Zach? Sam and Mike are going to spot for you. Blaine? Drew and I will spot for you. Listen to what I call out. Rosie? Sage? Good to go, Ladies?" Seeing nods from everyone, he moved to stand behind Blaine while Drew stood in front. Several feet away, Sam and Mike mirrored their positions.

"Toss to hands, extension prep. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Go one. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven Eight."

By the time Kurt reached the count of eight, Blaine had successfully tossed Rosemary into the air, caught her feet in each of his hands, and was holding her in a standing position, his hands at shoulder level.

"Drew?" Kurt didn't even need to ask the question. The Cheerios all understood the only way to get better was to allow others to critique what worked and what didn't work with them individually and with them as a team.

"No critique. Good job, Anderson," he replied with an encouraging look to Blaine.

Kurt glanced over his shoulder, meeting eyes with his fellow captain. "Satan?"

"Hobbit looks good so far."

Nodding to himself, Kurt called out, "Cradle down on four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. One. Two. Three. Four."

At Kurt's command, Blaine waited until two to push Rosemary up slightly before allowing her to fall into his arms. He released her legs, and they both stood up, pulling their tops back down. Blaine looked back to check Kurt's reaction.

Kurt was all business. "Did that feel okay for you, Hobbit?"

"Yes, Kurt."

Looking over at the other group, Kurt called out, "Z-man? That work okay with you?"

"No problems," answered Zachary confidently.

"Ladies?" Kurt made eye contact with each of the flyers. "Anything you'd like to add?" Seeing their identical head shakes, Kurt continued their warm up. "Alright. Next up, toss to hands, extension prep, extension, hold. Got it?" Kurt made a split second change. "Sam, count it out for Z."

Kurt held Blaine's eyes. "Talk me through it first, Hobbit. What are you going to do?"

Looking startled, Blaine began to protest. "I…I know what to do."

Maintaining their eye contact, Kurt waited several long moments before responding. "If you know what to do, _Anderson_, then telling us isn't a problem." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. "Your decision to not do what I asked, however, _is_ a problem," Kurt allowed just a touch of his annoyance to carry through in his tone. "Let's try this again. What did I ask you to do?"

Flushing with embarrassment, Blaine swallowed hard. His voice shook slightly as he answered without hesitation. "Toss to hands: on '_one'_ my hands are on Rosemary's waist, her hands are on my wrists; '_two'_ we dip down; '_three'_ she jumps and I start lifting; '_four'_ her feet push off my wrists; '_five'_ I release her as she's traveling up; '_six'_ I catch her feet – one in each hand at shoulder level because it's extension prep. '_Seven_ and _eight'_ are used to settle into balance."

Glancing over Kurt's shoulder towards the football game, Blaine continued. "Extension prep to extension: on '_one'_ I hold; '_two_" I step back with one leg; '_three'_ dip; '_four'_ my hands are at ear level; '_five'_ full extension above my head; '_six'_ bring my leg back so my feet are shoulder width apart; '_seven_ and _eight'_ used for balance. Hold until you call cradle, or I feel my flyer is going to fall."

"Correct. You ready to do it in front of an audience?" Kurt was matter of fact, even when Santana's snort of laughter at his unintended word choice met their ears.

Knowing that Kurt was in full 'captain' mode didn't make Blaine feel any better at the clinical way he was being treated. Had he pissed Kurt off? Or was this normal? He'd noticed a difference during practices, but nothing as extreme as this. Barely nodding, Blaine offered quietly, "Yes, I'm ready."

Rosemary turned to face the crowd, and in the space of sixteen counts, Blaine had her high above the ground, arms in a high 'V'. She could feel when Kurt placed his hands on her ankles for extra support.

"Rosie? Can we try a heel stretch?" called Kurt from below.

The smile on her face never faltered as she replied with, "Sure thing, Porcelain."

Kurt stepped closer to Blaine's back, quietly giving directions to the sophomore in his ear. "Bring her legs together over your head. Now we're going to keep our hold on her right foot and allow her left leg to come free. Your job?" Kurt paused, giving Blaine time to answer.

"Keep her balanced."

"Good. Both hands on her foot. You're doing fine, Blaine." Kurt kept his hands on Rosemary's ankle, lifting her up slightly to help alleviate the weight Blaine was bearing. For her part, Rosemary cautiously lifted her leg up, bracing her left ankle with her left hand above her head. The cheers from the crowd grew louder at the impressive stunt.

Keeping a watchful eye on Rosemary, Kurt instructed Drew to help with the dismount. "Rosemary is going to twist down, Blaine. Push her up and she'll take care of the twisting and falling. Your job is to –"

"Catch her before she hits the ground," said Blaine, Rosemary and Drew at the same time.

When she was safely back on the ground, Kurt reached out to squeeze Blaine's shoulder. "That was good. I'd like you to practice each your lifts three or four more times before the varsity game starts. Also, you need to have spotters during warm up, for now. The girls can spot, FYI. If you're doing an extension above your head, I'd like you to have Sam or Mike or Drew nearby. Obviously we can't do that during the game, because we'll be doing our own lifts – but practice is practice and show time is show time."

Kurt tugged Blaine forward to whisper in his ear. "Playing spin-the-bottle at a party isn't the same thing as what went down in my shower, now is it?." Dropping his hand, Kurt started towards Santana, who served as his partner during the football games. Spinning one last time, he added, "Good luck, Hobbit."

* * *

As the stunt squad broke into their smaller formations, Sam moved over next to Blaine who was busy organizing the signs they held up to the crowd to encourage their participation. "Anderson?" Sam quietly caught Blaine's attention and motioned with his head for the sophomore to take a short walk towards the water jug. Grabbing two cups, Sam poured water for both of them and wordlessly handed a cup to Blaine, then moved to stand on the edge of where the track and grass met to watch the Varsity football players warming up.

"Kurt wanted me to talk to you. Before we picked up the others, he asked me to make sure that you understand – when we're here, in front of the crowd, that's 'Kurt Hummel: Co-Captain of the nationally ranked William McKinley Titans Cheerios. _That's_ who's chewing your ass out…_shit_…poor choice of words, sorry." Sam flushed, running a hand through his hair.

Blaine smiled and waved away Sam's comment, knowing the other boy was trying to be supportive, not offensive.

"Look, it's his _job_ – as captain – to make _all_ of us better. It's because of him that we _are_ the best. It's not personal. That's what he wanted me to make sure you got – when he's with you, that's…_Kurt_. But here, he's the captain. Don't confuse the two." Sam crushed his water cup, tossing it into a nearby garbage can.

Feeling a little of the tension he was still holding on to from earlier leave, Blaine replied, "I get it."

They both turned and studied the packed bleachers, divided into parent, student and band member sections. "I know you think you do. Just…talk to him if you start to feel confused. We don't… usually date people on the squad," admitted Sam.

Blaine felt a jolt of fear move through him. "Will he be in trouble with Coach when she finds out?"

Sam had walked over to the tumbling mats and performed a back handspring, back tuck before looking over at Blaine again. "Only if your..._hooking up_…messes with the team dynamic. Otherwise…the last thing she wants…the last thing _any_ of us wants… is to be in the middle of a Porcelain-Hobbit sandwich." Sam winked at Blaine. "As delicious as you are, I'm sure."

Blaine ducked his head, embarrassed a bit at Sam's good natured teasing. Their attention was drawn by Santana who was calling everyone from the Varsity and Stunt squad over so they could divide into the two lines that would create a tunnel effect for the Varsity football players who would run through it as they were announced to the crowd.

Blaine managed to squeeze in next to Kurt as the Cheerios lined up shoulder to shoulder. "I have a question for you," he said only loud enough that Kurt would hear.

Not taking his eyes off of the girls across from him, Kurt tilted his head slightly in Blaine's direction. "Yes, Hobbit?

Blaine bit his lower lip lightly. "Sam found me. _Message understood_. Just wanted to know…if _you're_ in charge _on_ the field?" Blaine paused as the football players began grouping together nearby, jostling each other and smacking their helmets, in preparation for battle. "Um…yeah…so, can _I_ be in charge…_off_ the field?" The grin on his face was wide. He just hoped everyone else would assume it was because of his excitement of cheering at his first game.

Kurt turned his head slowly, raising an eyebrow at Blaine when their eyes finally met. Almost growling, he shot back, "I don't know, _Hobbit_. Do you think you can _handle it_?"

The announcer began introducing the players so both of them began the repetitive arm motions and chants that went along with each of the starting players. The only time that this was broken was when Finn Hudson, quarterback, and Kurt's step-brother was introduced. Finn stopped in front of Kurt, who fist bumped his brother with a roll of his eyes before Finn jogged on to the field.

Once the rest of the team jogged on to the field to the roar of the crowd, the Cheerios began taking their places in front of the stands. As he walked past Kurt to stand between Sam and Mike, Blaine nudged the senior with his shoulder. "You know I can _handle_ _it_, Hummel," he sassed.

Kurt leaned back to watch Blaine…and Blaine's cheer pants sashay down the line. "We'll see, _Anderson_," he called loudly.

Spinning, Blaine walked backwards as he grinned at Kurt, arms wide open. "_Challenge accepted_."

* * *

Because they were in charge of putting the mats away, the guys on the Cheerio squad were always last to enter the locker room. By the time they finished with their showers, most of the football players had long since left, which was for the best, since it reduced the number of confrontations between the two groups.

Not every football player had a problem with the guys on the Cheerios, though.

Kurt's step brother, Finn was fairly oblivious to the bullying at first. His first two seasons, he'd been focused on football and school - desperately trying to balance the time commitments to both. His head was in the proverbially sand; he just didn't pay attention to what his teammates were up to off the field - until Kurt's dad started dating his mom. At that point, Finn's awareness of the harassment the Cheerio guys dealt with increased, until finally, he'd had enough.

The five day suspension he'd earned for fighting Azimo and his goons was a badge of honor as far as he was concerned. Now that they were seniors, Finn considered Kurt to be one of his best friends and his brother – no 'step' needed.

Sitting on the bench in the middle of the row of lockers where the Cheerio guys changed, Finn talked amicably with Sam and Mike, waiting for Kurt to finish. Because they lived together, Finn, Sam and Kurt always drove home from the games together.

Still drying his hair, Blaine approached his locker wearing a towel wrapped around his narrow hips, and his button-down shirt already on. Pulling the rest of his street clothes out, Blaine finished dressing. Noticing Kurt's step-brother, whom he had met hurriedly the last time he'd been at Kurt's house, Blaine offered him a shy smile. "Hi Finn," he said quietly.

"Oh, hey…Blaine, right?" Finn offered his fist for Blaine to bump.

Blaine smiled a bit wider, bumping fists with the senior. Sitting down to tie his shoes, Blaine replied, "Yeah. I didn't know you were the quarterback. You've got a pretty good arm."

"Thanks." Finn sat up straighter. "You follow much football?" he asked with interest. "Later, Mike," he said with a wave as Mike left to find his date.

Finished with his shoes, Blaine straddled the bench, facing Finn, trying desperately to not stare at Kurt's ass in those tight pants he was wearing. "I'm a huge Buckeyes fan. So's my grandfather. On Saturdays, we get up early to do our chores and then it's, like, non-stop college ball. When we moved in with him, he put our televisions in the den with his – so we have four televisions we can run at once. It's Nirvana."

Leaning forward, Finn's voice betrayed his awe. "That's _so_ cool." He was interrupted from saying anything else by Kurt slamming his locker shut, stepping up to them.

"You ready, Hobbit?"

Blaine gazed up at Kurt, wetting his lips unconsciously. "Yeah. Just need to grab my bag, there." He dropped his gaze to the bag on the floor before looking back at Kurt.

"Hummel?"

Everyone turned to look at the tall, stocky brunet standing at the end of the row of lockers. He was twisting his hands nervously. Blaine had seen him around school, but wasn't sure of the guy's name, or if he was on the football team – although given his damp hair, it was a pretty safe bet he was.

Raising an eyebrow, Kurt acknowledged him. "Hey, David."

David seemed even more nervous at Kurt's words. "Um…like…I…I was wondering…can I talk to you? Like, in private?"

The others watched as Kurt and David seemed to have an entire silent conversation, before Kurt began nodding slowly. "You have your truck?"

"Yeah," he answered quietly.

Kurt brushed past Finn and Blaine, taking Sam's hand and dropping his car keys into his palm. "I'll catch a ride from Karofsky. Take Blaine and Finn home, okay?" He didn't even wait for an acknowledgment from Sam, just strode over to David and placed his hand on the football player's shoulder.

Blaine felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. Wanting to get out of the locker room before his emotions got the better of him, he hurried to grab his bag. "Sam?" he called out quietly. "Don't worry about me. I'm gonna walk home," he managed to push out past his tight throat. Then he fled the locker room.

Sam and Finn exchanged a look. "_Porcelain_!" Sam called over to Kurt who was whispering with Dave Karofsky at the end of the lockers.

Kurt turned around, annoyed at the interruption. "_What_? You don't need to wait. Just take them to our house."

Finn stood up and crossed his arms. "Dude! Blaine just left. Like, _upset_."

"_What_?" Kurt blurted out in shock. "_Why_? Did you _say_ something?" he accused.

Sam rolled his eyes, stepping up next to Finn. "You're an idiot, Hummel. No. We didn't _say_ _anything_. The guy he's _crushing_ on – who invited him over to his house – just _ditched_ him to drive home with another guy." Sam's expression let Kurt know Sam thought he was a complete dumbass.

"Dude! We're not _together_," blurted David defensively.

Sam held up his hands, "I'm not saying you _are_, Karofsky. But Blaine doesn't know that."

Kurt dropped his head and stared at the ground for several long moments as he considered what to do next. "I'll meet you at your car, Dave okay?" He waited until Dave acknowledged him, then hurried out into the night to try to find Blaine.

* * *

"**Hobbit**!"

As soon as Blaine realized that the echoing footsteps behind him belonged to Kurt, he started walking faster through the empty corridor. He just wanted to get home, put his sweats on, and hug his pillow until some of the hurt subsided.

"_Blaine_, stop _please_." Kurt's voice was right behind him, then he was tugging on Blaine's wrist, spinning the other boy around. Ducking his head to kiss Blaine, Kurt's stomach plummeted when Blaine jerked away. Managing to keep Blaine's hand in his, Kurt worked at controlling the damage he'd already, unintentionally, wrought. "Hey, _whatever_ is going through that head of yours…I can almost guarantee it's **not** what you think.

Staring at the ground, Blaine offered a weak shrug.

"Talk to me," whispered Kurt.

Blaine looked towards the cage where students locked their bicycles during the school day and tried to figure out what to share with Kurt. Taking a deep breath, his voice shook as he explained, "I didn't realize all you were offering was a ride home…I _thought_ you wanted to spend some time…_with __**me**_."

"**I do**," Kurt's answer was immediate. "_I do_ want to spend time with you tonight."

Glaring at Kurt, Blaine made no attempt to hide the hurt. "Yeah, well, ditching me to get into a car with another guy…doesn't make me feel like you do."

"I see." Kurt took Blaine by the elbow and pulled him into the shadows at the end of the building, backing the sophomore into the wall. He knew he had a chance when Blaine didn't resist.

"_Blaine_? Look at me." Kurt placed his hands on either side of Blaine's face, gently lifting his chin, until Blaine met his eyes. "**You're** the one I want to spend my time with. **You're** the one I want to kiss senseless." He brushed his lips against Blaine's with the lightest of touches. Pressing their bodies together, Kurt growled quietly, "**You're** the one I want moaning my name. Don't be jealous, _Hobbit_."

Blaine looked unconvinced.

Kurt leaned back in, sliding his tongue around the edge of Blaine's ear. "_Turn around_. Put your hands on the wall and **_be quiet_**." After he had complied, Kurt used his foot to edge Blaine's legs apart, then reached his arms around the shorter boy to unbutton his pants. Blaine's breathing went ragged.

"If you need a _physical_ reminder of what you _mean_ to me, then we'll have to make it quick." His hands found Blaine already half-hard. "We don't want the others to come looking for us." Kurt explained in a heated whisper. Then, only moving enough clothing to allow his movements, Kurt took Blaine's cock in hand and began to stroke firmly.

Biting his lip, Blaine fought to keep the whimpers and moans inside him. He couldn't stop thinking that they were outside, near the student parking lot, after a home game. There were all sorts of people still wandering around - anyone of which could discover their illicit actions. Thrusting into Kurt's hand, he felt Kurt press up against his ass, and couldn't help his reaction. The whimper that escaped echoed into the cold night air.

Kurt stepped back and yanked Blaine's pants and underwear down beneath his gorgeous ass. Without warning he smacked Blaine hard across both cheeks. "I **told** you, _Hobbit_, **no noise**," he said emphatically.

When he moved back, pressing against Blaine and resuming the hand job, he could feel the tension in the younger man. Worried, he hesitantly asked, "_Blaine_? Did I overstep? _Baby, I'm sorry_ –"

His apology cut off as Blaine twisted, capturing Kurt's lips in a heated kiss that was all tongue and teeth. "**_Fuck_**, Kurt." Blaine couldn't find more words.

Forcing his own head away, Kurt maneuvered Blaine into his original position. Using one hand to jerk him towards completion and the other the gently cup his balls, Kurt began to murmur the filthy words and images he knew would encourage Blaine to fall apart.

"I know _you __**want**_ this, _Blaine_…_you __**like**_ that I can send you over the edge…_you __**liked**_ it when I spanked you…I know exactly what I'm going to do the next time you blow a lift or routine…it'll involve me peeling off those red cheer pants, baring your ass to the world, turning you over my knee, and…" Kurt stopped when he felt heated wetness spread over the top of his hand.

When he'd caught his breath, Blaine bent down to his cheer bag and wordlessly handed Kurt a towel, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of Kurt's palm caressing his unclothed ass as he did so.

Once he cleaned himself up, Kurt reached to put Blaine back into his underwear and pants, zipping and buttoning them up. "Feel better?" he asked sincerely.

He was a bit surprised when Blaine's smile still seemed unsure. "Better…yes, a bit. I _always_ feel better when you're around," he answered truthfully. "But I'm still not _thrilled_ about you driving off with…that guy."

Tilting his head to the side, Kurt studied Blaine. "Thank you for your honesty. I promise you, we will talk when I get to my house. And there is **nothing** between Dave and me. We're…_friends_…friendly. But I need you to know that the **only** lips that will be anywhere on my body tonight belong to this really hot, curly-haired sophomore with an ass that makes me want to cry it's so beautiful. _He's_ beautiful – on the inside and out. And most of the time I feel like I don't deserve to have someone like him in my life. But don't tell him that."

Finally Blaine giggled. "I _trust_ you, Kurt." He stood on his toes to kiss Kurt's forehead. "But if you're not back in an hour, I'm asking Sam to drive me around until we find you. And then you'll find out what it's like to be spanked by your boyfr-" Blaine stopped realizing he was about to enter unexplored territory.

"_Promises, promises, Hobbit_." Though he'd heard Blaine's slip up, Kurt ignored it, choosing to wrap his arms around Blaine, and nuzzling his neck instead. They had time to talk about…that…lots of time. Soon.

* * *

_**End Note:**_ Next up: Burt, Finn, Sam & Blaine wait for Kurt to come home. Hurt feelings. Make up sexy times. Thank you for reading, favoriting, following, and your kind words of encouragement.


	8. Peanut Butter and Honey

**_A/N: _**_To the 99 followers of this little story, thank you for sharing this journey with me. To those of you who have taken the time to review, thank you for your kind words. It is always nice to know that someone out there in the world is reading this and enjoying it. __  
_

**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is__ rated M for adult language and sexual situations. If either of these things will make you uncomfortable, then it is best you find another story to read._

**_Disclaimer:_**_I__ do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed. (Maybe a little tired, worn out...but unharmed)_

* * *

**_Chapter 8: Peanut Butter and Honey_**

Sliding into a kitchen chair, Blaine watched as Finn and Sam moved in an incredibly synchronized dance of sorts. Finn immediately grabbed the bread and a bunch of bananas from the counter and peanut butter from a cupboard while Sam buried himself in the refrigerator, coming out with a gallon of milk, jelly and a white casserole dish that was presumable filled with leftovers from dinner.

Dropping those off on the table, they both went back to collect silverware, plates and glasses, as well as the cookie jar. Sitting down, they started creating their post-football game meal. It took Blaine by surprise that they seamlessly included him in their ritual, passing him a plate and glass, along with all of the fixings. It was as if he'd been sitting at the table with them for years, instead of this being the first time.

He watched curiously as Sam sliced a ripe banana on a slice of peanut butter covered bread and then reached for the honey on the counter, liberally squeezing the amber goodness out of the plastic bear. Topping his sandwich with another slice of bread, Sam took a large bite and sighed with contentment.

On the other hand, Finn had opened the casserole dish and, after tipping it towards Blaine in a silent offer to share, had heated the whole thing in the microwave and was eating the leftover pasta and chili straight from the container.

Blaine poured himself a glass of milk, drinking deeply. It really hit the spot. Pulling out a piece of bread, he decided to take a page out of Sam's book and spread a thin layer of peanut butter before adding slices of bananas. But rather than taking the honey, he topped his sandwich with raspberry jam. He, too, took a moment to savor the delicious simplicity of the meal.

It didn't take Finn long before he finished the leftovers. Pushing the dish away, he studied Blaine for a moment before asking, "So what's your story, dude?"

Blaine glanced at Sam first before looking at Finn. Taking a moment to swallow his bite, he shook his head. "I'm sorry?"

Finn leaned back in the chair, and smiled kindly. "Look, Kurt's my brother. I _have_ to ask. It's like, my duty." At the near panic on Blaine's face, Finn backtracked. "Dude. No judgment. I don't have a problem with you and Kurt…doing whatever you're doing." His attempt to calm the sophomore down was failing miserably. Blaine was bright red, and staring down at his plate.

Sam reached out a hand and covered Blaine's. "Hobbit, the big guy doesn't mean to make you uncomfortable. We just would really like to get to know you better. That's all." Letting that information sink in, Sam took a moment to refill Blaine's glass of milk and then his own.

"What…what do you want to know?" Blaine asked quietly.

Sam and Finn looked at each other and shrugged. "I don't know," admitted Finn. "You just started at McKinley, where'd you come from?"

Blaine rubbed the back of his neck as he gathered his words. "Westerville. Before that, Columbus. My mom and I moved in with my grandfather – partially because he's 80 and starting to show signs of Alzheimer's and partially because my dad decided to remake his life five years ago and walked out on us. He lives in Seattle with his former secretary, who became his current wife and my two half-brothers who I've never met. Anyway, mom couldn't keep up the house payments on just her salary –so she sold it and we moved to an apartment in Westerville."

Blaine reached for the cookie jar, and found himself holding the most amazing looking chocolate chip cookies he'd ever seen. Biting into one, he couldn't help but let out a small moan. "These are _so_ good," he said, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Kurt made them," offered Sam with a smirk.

"He can make me cookies _any_ day," sighed Blaine.

Finn started cleaning up their mess. "So why'd you move from Westerville? Or was that just because of your grandpa?" Because his back was turned, Finn missed the color leaving Blaine's face.

Sam scooted his chair closer to Blaine. "_Hey, B_? You don't have to say anything. It's perfectly okay to tell us you don't want to talk about it," he spoke quietly, carefully judging the boy's reactions.

Blaine shook his head slowly. "No, Sam. It's hard to talk about… but I can't keep hiding what happened. Especially not from my…friends."

Hearing Blaine's voice raise as if questioning whether Finn and Sam considered him to be a friend, Sam nudged him gently with an elbow and gave him a smile and a wink, assuring him non-verbally that yes, the boys genuinely liked Blaine.

When Finn sat back down, Blaine stood on shaky legs, slowly lifting his shirt to bare his scar and bruising. "I was attacked…at a school dance. Mom wouldn't let me go back to that school even if I wanted to. After that, we moved here."

Leaning forward on his arms, Finn replied adamantly, "That **sucks**. Sincerely. That's just messed up." Snagging several chocolate chip cookies from the jar, Finn set them down in front of him. Looking at Blaine, he said quietly, "Have things at McKinley been okay for you?"

A bit surprised at the question, Blaine shrugged. "I guess? I mean, yeah, some people say things…assume things and stuff. Mostly when I'm not in uniform. But it'd be like that wherever I went, so I kinda make my peace with it."

"You shouldn't have to," Sam replied firmly, leaning back in his chair, staring off into space. "Put up with anything. Because you're gay. Or because you're a cheerleader. People piss me off."

Blaine couldn't help but laugh at the matter-of-fact way Sam let his frustration with society out into the open. "You're right. I shouldn't have to. But I do. I try to not escalate things when it's happening, rather than get my ass handed to me by some football player who's seven inches taller than me and outweighs me by 70 pounds."

Sitting up straighter, Finn asked, "Is the football team giving you problems, Blaine? Because if they are, I'll take care of it."

"No…things have been okay since Kurt threatened that he and Santana would deal with anyone who gave me a hard time. They've been really quiet since then." Blaine reached for another cookie, considered for a moment and then took two.

"_Shit_, no wonder." Finn and Sam shared a pointed look before Finn explained. "_No one_ wants to be on Satan's list. Last year, some kid from a prep school threw a slushie at Kurt at a game. Rumor has it, that three days later…his brand new BMW was found filled – up to the windows - with purple slushie. The tires – slashed; the mirrors – smashed. There's no proof it was her…but everyone **knows** it was Santana."

The three of them sat in silence for a while, the performance high from the game slowly ebbing, leaving three very tired teenagers sitting at the table.

"_So_…you and Kurt?" Finn was clearly fishing for information, but hesitant to come right out and ask Blaine if he and his brother were officially official. Clearly something was between them. He'd gotten the text from Kurt about not bothering them the day Blaine had gotten sick at practice.

And he'd seen how flustered Burt had been when he'd come back upstairs after going to Kurt's basement room to check on the boys.

And he'd maybe eavesdropped a little when Burt was chewing Kurt out for '_being inappropriate_' with a '_boy he hadn't even been introduced to_'. Finn had wanted to ask Kurt what 'being inappropriate' entailed, but since he liked having his balls attached to his body, he'd given up any hope of finding out. From Kurt, anyway.

Swallowing nervously, Blaine parroted, "Me and Kurt…?"

Finn raised his eyebrows, hoping Blaine would just figure it out.

Shaking his head, Blaine looked down at his hands. "What do you want to know, Finn? You can _ask_. I might not tell you, but I'm _not_ going to get mad at you for asking. But…I'm not just gonna start…sharing intimate details of my life." Blaine could feel himself flushing. "_Not_ that there _are_ intimate details to share, of course, but if there _were_, I wouldn't just…blurt them out."

Studying Blaine for a moment, Finn began with the most important question. "Do you _like_ Kurt?"

Blaine looked exasperated. "Of course I like Kurt."

"No, dude, I mean… do you _like him_ like him?" clarified Finn.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "**Yes**, Finn. I **like** Kurt. In a romantic sense as well as a friend sense."

Considering for a moment, Finn asked, "Are you two dating?"

Looking off into the kitchen, Blaine thought about the question for a moment before answering. "Um…we've gone out together three or four times. So…I _guess_."

Sam perked up. "Super ninja stealth dating. I _like_. I didn't know you guys had gone out. Where'd he take you?"

Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Blaine chewed on his lower lip in thought. "He took me out to dinner – back right after we had tryouts. After the football team got in my face. The Italian place."

"Breadstix?"

"Yeah, that sounds right. We got coffee twice and I asked him to the movies a couple weeks ago. I don't know for sure if Kurt would say we're dating…but…earlier, he told me not to be jealous that he was getting into the car with…_Dan_?"

"Dave," supplied Finn.

"Yeah. Kurt told me that he wants to spend time with me. I _want_ to believe him. I mean, I _trust_ him when he tells me things, but then, I look at me, and I'm thinking, what the hell would he want with some short sophomore who's damaged."

Sam grabbed Blaine's hand, drawing the boy's attention to him. "You. Are. Not. Damaged. Hobbit. I mean it. Stop talking like that."

Blaine swiped his other hand down his face before looking directly at Sam. "There's a world of difference between _knowing_ something to be true and _feeling_ it, Sam." It surprised Blaine that Sam continued to hold his hand, supporting him in touch and words. "Kurt said the same thing to me," he admitted quietly. "The day he brought me over here."

"_See_? You should listen to us upper classmen. Our knowledge is boundless – and hard earned." Sam teased Blaine gently, ruffling his curls, hoping to get the sophomore to smile once again.

"Dude, I don't know about you and Kurt – but the girls I've dated certainly have no problem with bruises and scars. They usually want to kiss it and make it better, if you know what I mean." Finn grinned before suddenly looking like he had swallowed something that then moved in his stomach.

"Oh, _fuck_ – like, Kurt didn't…oh, god, that day you were here and we got that text. **_That's_** what he was doing, wasn't it. _Oh_, _god_. I can't get that image out of my head. Make it stop!" Finn began shaking his head as if his brain was an etch-a-sketch and doing so would erase the image.

For his part, Blaine turned crimson again and Sam - he just laughed. Loudly.

Ducking his head down, Blaine offered his shy smile. "He _may_ have been attempting to _build_ my confidence back up. He's certainly not bothered by my scar," he offered.

Patting Blaine's hand, Sam replied, "Well, then, proof once again, that you should do your best to let go of your negative head space. Some hot senior guy is in to you – that's proof positive in my book."

Finn wadded up his paper napkin and threw it at Sam's head, missing by a mile. "That's my _brother_ you just called hot, and his," he jabbed a finger towards Blaine, "boyfriend. Neither one of us wants to hear that, Evans."

Crossing his arms, Sam smirked at Finn. "Just because **I'm** secure enough to be able to look at another guy and verbalize that he's attractive doesn't mean **you** should feel threatened. Is it because I didn't say you were hot, Finnie?" Sam began making kissing motions towards Finn.

Blaine buried his face in his hands, hardly able to believe the antics of Finn and Sam. "He's _not_ my boyfriend," Blaine mumbled between his fingers, causing the other boys to freeze.

"What the **_hell_** are you talking about, Hobbit?" Sam demanded incredulously.

Stunned at the forceful tone Sam had used, Blaine peeked up cautiously. "We're not…I mean…he hasn't asked…we haven't talked about…_that_."

Sam turned his piercing blue eyes on Blaine and stared hard. "Hobbit, whether or not you've '_talked'_, you two are together. Hell, even Finn here knows that, and he's usually completely oblivious to any and all things surrounding relationships – including his own."

Finn shrugged. "It's true."

"So unless you're _looking_ for something else…"

"**NO**! I don't want anyone else. I…I want to be with Kurt," insisted Blaine. "I just…I don't want to presume anything."

A throat cleared from the doorway. Burt Hummel, hip resting on the door frame, smiled at the boys. "I don't think it's too much of a presumption…given what I saw the other day."

Sam watched as the sophomore lost his color at Burt's words. Poor kid.

"Mr. Hummel," he whispered in greeting.

Burt walked to the table and sat down. "Nice to see you remember my name, kid." Looking around the kitchen his gaze eventually landed on Finn. "Where's Kurt?" He was surprised not to find his son sitting at the table with the other boys, especially since that Blaine kid was here.

Finn looked nervously over at Blaine and then back at his step-father. "Getting a ride home from Karofsky."

His brow furrowed in confusion as Burt considered Finn's words. "That Dave kid?" Seeing Finn's nod of affirmation, Burt asked, "But I thought the two of them had stopped seeing each other. If _he's_ with Dave, why is _he_," he jabbed a finger in Blaine's direction, "here?"

"Kurt's helping Dave with something," Sam piped in, hoping that Blaine wasn't going to jump to anymore conclusions with Burt's admission of Kurt and Dave's prior…_history_.

Burt raised an eyebrow at Sam, a look that Kurt had clearly learned from his dad. "Is _that_ what you kids call it? Because just a week ago or so, he seemed to be '_helping'_ Blaine with something too. Christ." Removing his ever-present ball cap, Burt ran his hand over his smooth head, trying to figure out just where he'd gone wrong as a parent.

All sorts of thoughts and images were spinning through Blaine's mind and what was being said…and not said, by everyone at the table. With a quick glance at his watch, Blaine realized it had been almost an hour since they'd left the school parking lot. An hour…in a car…with a guy he'd apparently dated. The sick feeling that had taken up residence in his stomach at Burt's appearance, only continued to grow. He needed to get out of here. He needed to go home and not think about things. Standing up, Blaine mumbled, "I'm gonna go home now. Thanks for the ride, Sam. Finn. Mr. Hummel."

As he slid past, Sam grabbed Blaine's wrist. "Hobbit, _stay_. I _promise_ you, Kurt's just talking with Dave. There's nothing going on there." Sam could see in Blaine's eyes just how much he wanted to believe that…and yet, still there was doubt.

Gently, Blaine pulled away from the older cheerleader. "It's _fine_, Sam," his voice betraying that he was anything but fine. "I need to get home and check on my grandfather, anyway." He moved as quickly as he could through the kitchen towards the front door.

"Blaine! Let me drive you, at least," called Sam. "It's almost midnight."

Looking one last time at Sam, Blaine smiled forlornly. "I need the walk. I'll be fine. Really. I'll text you when I'm home so you know I got home safe, okay?" When he saw Sam's nod, Blaine opened the door and walked out into the chilly night air.

Starring after the boy who had captured his son's interest, Burt helped himself to a cookie. "Did I say something wrong there?"

Propping his head on his hand, Finn felt the wall of fatigue crash down on him. "Yeah, Burt. You kinda did. Blaine didn't know about Kurt and Dave…about them dating. I mean, the only people who do know are me and Sam and Santana…and you. Kurt wouldn't have told Blaine. For a bunch of reasons."

"Like what?" asked Burt, clearly missing a piece of the puzzle.

Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Dave's not out. At all. Not even to his family. Kurt wouldn't have felt the need to tell Blaine because in doing so, he'd break his promise to Dave." Sam fiddled mindlessly with the tablecloth. "The _problem_ is Blaine doesn't know _that_. He's young and feels like he's not good enough for Kurt, which is ridiculous on like a thousand different levels, but it's still what he feels."

Dropping the chair back on the floor, Sam brought one leg up on the chair, wrapped his arms around his knee and rested his chin on his knee. "Blaine walked out on us earlier because he was upset about Kurt leaving with Dave. I don't know what Kurt said when he found him, but he seemed to have settled the hobbit down enough that he agreed to come with us."

Meeting Burt's gaze, Sam offered a small smile. "You intimidate the hell out of him. Finding him asleep in Kurt's bed, almost completely undressed – yeah, he's mortified that you'll never let him live that down."

"And whatever might have gone down in Kurt's room that day – Blaine really **was** suffering from heat exhaustion – and we brought him here so we could look after him. You know I wouldn't lie to you, Burt. Not about something so serious. Not after everything you and Carole have done for me. I wouldn't."

Burt nodded. "I know, Sam. I'm not questioning your integrity. I may question Kurt's, but not yours, Son," he explained in a low voice.

Sam stood up and pushed his chair under the table. "I'm gonna crash." Taking three steps towards the door way, Sam stopped and turned back to look at Burt. "I just want you to know, Burt…that those two…they're totally falling for each other. And as their friend…I'm really happy for both of them…Good night."

"Night, Sam," called Finn and Burt.

Burt looked at his step-son. "And what do _you_ think about all this?"

Yawning, Finn shrugged. "What _he_ said. Kurt's…I've not seen him like this…ever." Considering his words carefully, Finn finally explained, "When you and mom started dating…it was kinda the same. She was just more…_her_. More _alive_. And I _really_ like Blaine. Seriously. I think he's a good match for Kurt. I mean, I love Kurt and all, but he can be a bit of…a diva at times. Blaine's not gonna let him pull that _shit_. Honestly? You should give him another shot. For Kurt."

Burt rubbed his chin with his hand, taking everything Sam and Finn had shared tonight. "Thanks, Finn. You're growing into a fine man."

Smiling, Finn stood and clapped Burt on the shoulder. "Well, I do have an amazing example of what a man should be living here at home with me."

He squeezed the man's shoulder then tracked Burt' gaze towards the cookie jar. Holding up one finger, he lectured quietly, "_One_ more cookie, and off to bed with you too. I don't want Mom or Kurt on my case for leaving you unattended with the cookie jar."

"Get out of here," Burt laughed, playfully swatting at the teen. One more cookie and then he'd go back to bed, and maybe dream about a time when Kurt was much younger, and the challenges he faced were just a bit less…daunting. But first, one more cookie.

* * *

Blaine stood in the darkness of the front porch watching.

When he'd looked up after pulling the front door shut, he's spotted Kurt and…Dave, leaning against Kurt's SUV, holding hands. The two of them were speaking too quietly for Blaine to overhear, but their body language was certainly telling.

It was like one of the movies where you knew you didn't want to watch, but you couldn't stop yourself. All Blaine wanted to do was go home. But if he walked down the front walkway, Kurt would spot him – and despite Kurt's reassurance, and Sam's reassurance, Blaine just wasn't in the headspace to believe either one of them.

Especially since Kurt had pulled Dave into a hug.

A hug where Dave had buried his head into Kurt's shoulder while his hands drifted slowly downwards from Kurt's waist to his hips and then –

Fuck this.

Moving with determination he didn't know he had, Blaine ended up standing a few feet from where they were standing. "I'd say I'm sorry to interrupt," he said loudly, somewhat satisfied at the way the pair jumped apart, "but I'm not. _Dave_, is it? _Dave_, would you mind removing your hands, from my boyfriend's ass?"

Dave stepped away from Kurt, holding up his hands. "I'm sorry…it's not what it looks like," Dave replied nervously, glancing between the furious short kid and Kurt. "I…I didn't know…you were with anyone. I'm really sorry, Kurt and…"

"Blaine," offered Kurt quietly.

"Blaine. I'm sorry," Dave repeated sincerely. Looking pointedly at Kurt, Dave's voice wavered as he said, "Hummel, I can't…I don't have the words. Thank you for listening…and your advice. I..just…"

Kurt reached over and squeezed Dave's arm reassuringly. "I get it. I really do, Dave. You're welcome. And you are welcome to ask for my help anytime. I meant it when I said I would be here as your _friend_," he emphasized that last word.

Dave stared at the ground. "Thank you." Looking up at Blaine, Dave spoke to Kurt, "I can only imagine what your boyfriend is thinking right now, Hummel. If you…if you need to share…_things_, so that he understands…I won't mind. I trust you. And if you trust him, that's good enough for me."

Offering a small wave at both of them, Dave jogged slowly to his pickup truck, climbed in and drove away. When his truck turned the corner, Kurt stepped up to Blaine and tucked some curls behind his ear.

"Where are you going?" he asked quietly. He knew, from the burning in his stomach, that he had a lot to explain to Blaine, but until he had a better understanding of what Blaine was feeling, he needed to tread lightly.

Arms crossed tightly across his chest, Blaine's terse answer was, "Home."

"But –"

Blaine cut Kurt off. "It's _late_. I _need_ to check on my grandfather. I'm going _home_," he repeated forcefully, refusing to look at Kurt for fear of losing his grip on his emotions.

Kurt reached out to take hold of Blaine's shoulder. "I'm sorry I took so long."

Blaine's response was to take a deep breath and shrug.

Stepping forward to close the distance between them, Kurt slid his hands on either side of Blaine's face, worried when Blaine's eyes shut tight. Bringing his lips to Blaine's ear, he whispered, "You…you'll let me take you home, right? _Please_, Blaine? I don't want you to go to sleep upset about something that you shouldn't be upset about."

Blaine responded by shoving Kurt away until his back was pressed hard against the side of his SUV. Giving in to his anger and frustration, Blaine slapped his hands on either side of Kurt's head, caging the taller boy in with his arms and body. Pressing up against Kurt, Blaine growled out, "I _shouldn't_ be upset? _Fuck you_, Hummel. I just walked outside to find my _boyfriend_ pulling another guy into his arms – that guy's _hands_ fondling his _ass_ – and **I'm**. **Not**. **Supposed**. **To**. **Be**. **Upset**?"

"When did **we** become _boyfriends_?" Kurt had blurted out the first thing that crossed his mind. But the moment the words left his lips, he regretted them.

Blaine reeled back as if Kurt had physically slapped him.

A chilly gust of wind caught some dead leaves, providing the only sound in the silence that stretched between them.

"_Blaine_ –" Kurt croaked. The fear that he'd just shoved Blaine away from him forever gripped his throat tightly, making it almost impossible to get the words out. Desperate, he dug his fingers into Blaine's hips, fighting to keep him in place.

Blaine stared straight into Kurt's eyes. "You're right. You _aren't_ my boyfriend. I apologize…for saying that," he said flatly.

Kurt tried to bring Blaine closer, but the other boy refused to budge. "Blaine, _don't_. I didn't mean it."

"I need to go home," replied Blaine.

"_Blaine_ –"

"I need to go home," he repeated a little louder. "Let go of me."

"_Blaine_, **please** –"

Wrenching himself away from Kurt, Blaine stalked down the driveway, ignoring the calls from the senior to please come back and talk, to come back and get in the car. By the time he reached the sidewalk, Blaine realized he was running away from confrontation – again. Granted, his mom had kinda forced the decision on him last time by moving, but this was something fully in his control.

Decision made, he spun around and marched back to Kurt. He found the other boy sitting on the ground, leaning against his car, arms wrapped around his knees, wiping away the tears running down his face. When he realized that Blaine had returned, he scrambled to stand back up.

Without warning, Blaine snaked his arm around Kurt's neck and pulled him down so their lips brushed. With patience he didn't feel, he ran the tip of his tongue over Kurt's lower lip, absorbing the feeling of power that ran through him when Kurt trembled and moaned into his mouth. Blaine took the opportunity to plunge his way into Kurt's mouth, forcing Kurt to take what he was willing to give.

Not breaking the kiss, he backed Kurt against the passenger door of his SUV, yanking Kurt's shirt out of his pants so he could run his hands over the smooth skin of his chest and back. Kurt had one hand wrapped up in his curls and the other tight around his shoulders, Blaine slowly thrust his hips into Kurt's, giving them the friction they both desired.

When Kurt's whimpers grew in frequency, Blaine wrenched his lips away, deftly working to unbuckle Kurt's belt and undo his pants. Languidly he rubbed his hand over Kurt's clothed erection, moving to whisper in his ear. "Does _he_ do this for you, Hummel? Does _he_ make you fall apart like I do?"

Kurt groaned out, "It's not _like_ that, Hobbit. Just…_shit_, that feels _so_ good, babe. Just, give me a chance to explain, _please_."

Blaine ran his teeth up the cording on the side of Kurt's neck. "He was _touching_ you, Hummel. You can't tell me I didn't _see_ what I _know_ I saw. His face was right _here_." Blaine bit down on the juncture of Kurt's neck and shoulder and sucked roughly, intending to mark Kurt. When Kurt's knees wobbled, Blaine shoved his leg forcefully between Kurt's, providing him the support he needed to stay upright.

Dipping his hands into Kurt's underwear, Blaine fingers made their way from Kurt's hips to the flesh of his ass. Yanking him forward, Blaine slotted their cocks together, providing friction, despite the layers of cloth that still existed between them.

"His _hands_, Hummel…his _hands_ were touching you **here**." He squeezed Kurt's cheeks while grinding against him.

Kurt took Blaine's chin in his fingers, gently forcing the sophomore to look at him. Carefully, he brushed a kiss on Blaine's forehead, then one on his cheek, before finally capturing Blaine's lips in a soft kiss. "**_B_**?" he said quietly. "I _know_ you're angry at me. I didn't mean to say that you shouldn't feel upset. You have _every_ right to feel _whatever_ you're feeling."

He captured Blaine's swollen lips again, moving his hands soothingly over Blaine's back, feeling the tension in the young man's muscles. Separating again, he whispered, "I'm _begging_ you, Blaine…and if you want me on my knees, I'll do it. I'm **begging** you to give me the chance to explain. **_Please_**."

Leaning back as much as Kurt's arms would allow, Blaine couldn't help but to get in one last jab. "Why do you care? It's not like we're anything more than _fuck_ _buddies_," he shot back, voice cracking with hurt.

"You **_know_** that's not true, Blaine," Kurt whispered fiercely. "You **_know_** you mean more than that to me. You know _this_…whatever _this_ is between us, means more than that to me. Christ, Blaine. I panicked. Okay? You called me your _boyfriend_, and we've never _talked_ about that – which clearly was stupid, since it's what we **both** want."

At Blaine's sharp inhalation, Kurt smiled softly and dropped a kiss on his forehead. "I don't not want to be your boyfriend, Hobbit. It's just…we need to talk about the ramifications of being official."

Gazing into Blaine's eyes, Kurt explained, "I would **love** to be able to just announce '_us'_ to everyone, B. You know '_K. Hummel is in a relationship with B. Anderson_' and all that shit. But as much as our friends would support us…we're outnumbered by the haters. You've dealt with enough shit in your life. I just want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into."

"_Kurt_."

Cutting him off, Kurt continued, "And one more thing. I don't like it when you're angry and you only call me by my last name." He was glad to feel the rest of the tension leave Blaine's body in a rush.

"Kurt, I'm s-"

"_Sshhh_," Kurt soothed. "Just…will you let me take you home now? Like a proper boyfriend? I know you want to check on your grandpa…then we can talk, on the couch. Unless…does your grandpa know you're gay, Blaine?"

Blaine chuckled lightly, "Yes. Yes, to taking me home. Yes, to the boyfriend. Yes, to checking on Papa. Yes, he knows I'm gay. And yes, you and I can talk on the couch."

Kurt brushed the curls from Blaine's forehead. "May I officially kiss my boyfriend before I gallantly open the door to the car for him?"

"And they say chivalry is dead," whispered Blaine just before Kurt's lips descended on his in a languidly wet slide of affection.

* * *

_**End Note:**_ I am 80% done with chapter 9 and I am hoping to post it on Thursday. Oh, a preview of sorts: well, whereas this chapter focused more on character development, I would classify chapter 9 more along the lines of: truths revealed, smut, fluff, smut, fluff and then possible more smut. I'll go back to plot with Chapter 10.

Last, Billie, you're comments always make my day. Thank you. You rock my world, like Darren Criss rocks our world. ;-D

Hope you all have a safe, healthy, productive week!


	9. My Mouth was Full

**_A/N: _**_Read the warnings. If Klaine sexy times is your thing, it is my sincere hope that you enjoy the chapter. The boys get to know each other better. **And **get to **know** each other better. Thank you for reading, favoriting, following, and being so supportive in your comments. Um, and to whoever added this story to the Klaine fanfiction update on Tumbler, thank you to you!__  
_

**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is rated M for adult language and sexual situations. If either of these things will make you uncomfortable, then it is best you find another story to read._

**_Disclaimer:_**_I do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed. (Maybe a little tired, worn out...but unharmed)_

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**Chapter 9: My Mouth Was Full**

Continuing his chivalrous behavior, Kurt had walked Blaine to the front door of his house, keeping his hand on the small of Blaine's back. Blaine had quickly invited him inside, taking his hand and leading him towards the back of the house to the kitchen. There Kurt had met Mr. Ladd, Blaine's grandfather.

The elderly gentleman was sitting at the kitchen table, newspaper sitting open in front of him, while he was scribbling notes into a spiral notebook. Looking up at his grandson, he offered a wide smile. "Blaine, how was the game? Who's your friend?" He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before replacing them.

"Papa, this is Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is my grandfather, Mr. Ladd," Blaine had replied formally.

Kurt walked over and shook hands with Mr. Ladd who promptly announced, "So this is the fellow responsible for that shit-eating grin that's been pasted on your face for the last month, eh?"

Mortified, Blaine could feel the tips of his ears burning as Kurt glanced back at him, raising his eyebrow in confirmation that Blaine had been talking about him to his grandfather.

"I'm sure it's the same grin my father has been seeing from me," Kurt admitted with a shy smile.

Blaine walked over and sat down at the table, pulling Kurt into the seat next to him. "The game was really good – well, what I could see of it anyway. Mostly we face away from the field, so I couldn't see many of the plays. McKinley won, though. I'm sure it was mostly due to Kurt's brother. He's the quarterback," Blaine explained excitedly before continuing. "I didn't drop any of my stunts, Papa. And I remembered the dance moves, so I don't think I made a fool of myself – which was my main goal for tonight."

"You sell yourself short, young man," Mr. Ladd answered gruffly. He marked two or three more items into his notebook before peering back over his glasses at his grandson.

Kurt looked hard at Blaine. "Your grandfather is right, Hobbit. You were _amazing_ tonight. I would know, I was watching."

Glancing over at Kurt, Blaine asked quietly, "You really think so? Like…as captain? Not as my boyfriend."

Mr. Ladd stood up and went over to the kitchen pantry, and began looking for something inside, giving the boys a little more privacy.

Kurt took Blaine's face between his palms. "Your _boyfriend_ found it hard to focus on his job as captain because of how amazing you look in those red cheer pants…and how fantastic your arms look in those short sleeves, especially when you're lifting one of the flyers. That's why, as _captain_, I can say your performance was really top rate – especially given this was your first time out. Yeah, we have a lot of work ahead of us to get you where you need to be for competition, but tonight? You were everything we needed you to be."

Drawn to Blaine, Kurt drifted closer and closer. "I really want to kiss you, Hobbit," Kurt whispered against Blaine's lips.

Blaine moved forward, bringing their lips into brief contact, before pulling back. "Papa isn't going to be upset over a kiss," he whispered, closing his eyes just as Kurt's lips met his.

"No, he isn't," replied Mr. Ladd who had returned unnoticed and was now standing in front of the boys who'd jerked apart at his words.

"Especially if it's just a kiss – not one of those horrid displays where you think the other person is trying to complete a tonsillectomy with their tongue," smirked the old man who placed a plate of cookies and dried fruit on the table between the boys. Giving them a look that said they weren't going to fool him for a moment, he asked, "Would you like some sandwiches? Eggs?"

Shortly thereafter, Kurt found himself eating a simple sandwich made with toasted homemade wheat bread, garden fresh heirloom tomatoes, and crispy maple bacon. Yes, he was always hungry after a game, but this…this was phenomenal. He listened carefully as Blaine and his grandfather explained how they grew most of their fruits and vegetables in the backyard, and spent much of their downtime canning and freezing and making jams and jellies to carry them through the winter.

"That's so…cool," remarked Kurt sincerely. "Maybe…maybe I could come over and help next time?" Leaning back in the chair, he explained, "It was just me and my dad for a long time…after my mom died." When Blaine took his hand in support, he smiled softly at him. "And Dad…he's been amazing about a lot of things. I mean, I'm sure the last thing he ever thought he'd be dealing with was a gay son who turned out to love cheering for football more than watching it."

"But the one thing he's just not suited for – is cooking. I started going through cookbooks at ten, and by twelve, I was our full time cook. That lasted until he met Carole. We trade off now. But I enjoy it. I really love baking, but I like trying out new recipes and ingredients. So, seriously, I'd love to learn to do what you do." He was looking earnestly at Mr. Ladd, hoping that the older man understood he was being sincere, and not just trying to make a good impression. If it was that, he wouldn't have been caught kissing Blaine at the table.

"I'm sure we'd love to have you, Kurt," answered Mr. Ladd with a smile. "Well, I'm about done running the numbers on our college football games tomorrow. I'm off to bed. I'm sure, Blaine, that your fellow here needs to be getting home himself," he said pointedly. "Walk him to his car. Ten minutes and then your butt needs to be back in this house. I'll know, because you will come tell me more about this football game before I go to sleep."

"Goodnight, Mr. Ladd. It was nice meeting you," Kurt offered, standing up to shake the man's hand again.

"Goodnight, Kurt. The same. I'm sure I'll be seeing you frequently around here." As he shuffled out of the room, he called over his shoulder, "Just not as much as Blaine will be seeing!"

"Papa!" yelled Blaine as his grandfather's teasing laughter bubbled forth from the hallway.

"I love your grandfather," giggled Kurt, slipping a hand behind Blaine's neck to pull him in for another kiss. "I hate to go before we've talked though."

Standing up slowly, not wanting to break their kiss, Blaine brought his hands to rest low on Kurt's lips, fingers just brushing his ass. Separating just enough, he whispered, "I have a plan."

"Ooh, do tell, Hobbit." Kurt whispered back, dropping a series of open mouthed kisses on Blaine's neck so his boyfriend had use of his mouth.

"Mmmm…go out and move your car down the block. My bedroom is the front one. Go around to the side window. I'll let you in and we can talk." Blaine nudged Kurt's shirt out of the way and latched on to the spot he'd been marking in anger earlier, gently laving his tongue over the bruise, drawing gasps from Kurt.

"Talk," mumbled Kurt.

"Yes, talk," reiterated Blaine. "I need…some answers. And you begged me for the chance to explain. Even offered to get down on your knees, if I remember correctly," he rasped lowly, moving to nip at the spot behind Kurt's jaw, just under his ear.

Kurt slowly backed Blaine against the kitchen table, guiding the sophomore down until they were completely pressed against each other from chest to groin. Sliding his hand down, Kurt pulled Blaine's leg up until it was wrapped around his waist.

"Kurt," moaned Blaine.

"Ssshh, Hobbit. I just want to make sure you know that anytime you want me on my knees, you only need to ask. Or moan my name like you just did. I promise, I'll take care of you." Kurt wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, knowing Blaine was watching every movement, feeling the boy grown even harder underneath him.

Impatient, Blaine wrapped his fingers in Kurt's hair, yanking the senior down to his lips.

Seven Minutes in Heaven had never been quite so sexy.

* * *

Kurt tapped quietly on the glass window, glancing over his shoulder, fearful that one of the neighbors had seen him sneaking around to the side of the house, and that he would soon meet seven cops with guns drawn who would arrest him for attempted burglary only to find out that what they should arrest him for was contributing to the delinquency of a minor. _Shit_.

The scraping of the window sliding up into its casing drew his attention. The moon had risen far enough in the night sky to shine down on Blaine – and it was truly a breathtaking sight. His boyfriend motioned for him to climb into the bedroom, helping Kurt to maneuver through the tight opening without bashing his head on the window frame. Finally he stood inside Blaine's bedroom.

"Hi."

"Hey."

They both giggled nervously.

Blaine reached for Kurt's hand and tugged him closer, until their lips met. Wrapping his arms loosely around Kurt's waist, Blaine enjoyed the moment before slowly withdrawing from Kurt. Leading the other boy to the edge of the bed, he gestured for Kurt to sit down.

Clearing his throat, Blaine said, "You asked for a chance to tell me your side of the story. I'm ready to hear it. Well, I think I'm ready. I don't know if I'm ready. But we need to work this out." With a finger, Blaine traced a pattern on the quilt that covered his bed, not really looking at Kurt.

Kurt dropped his hand to cover Blaine's, intertwining their fingers. "What about your grandfather?"

"Oh!" Blaine's head came up to look at Kurt, "oh, don't worry. He takes his hearing aides out to sleep. We could practice cheering at full volume and he wouldn't hear it."

"Noted. _So_ storing that information away for another time, Hobbit," Kurt growled. He gently tucked a curl behind Blaine's ear, and traced his lips with a finger. "I want to tell you about tonight, and then, maybe, you can just ask me what else you want to know…because it's not really my story to tell…well, not mine alone, anyway."

He tipped Blaine's chin upwards so he could look deep into his eyes. "Blaine? I need you to know, that…everything I tell you…it's the truth. If I can't tell you something, I'll say that. I'm not going to lie to you, and I need to know you believe me." He placed a light kiss on Blaine's cheek, before sliding his lips so that they were pressed in the gentlest of kisses against the smooth, firm lips of his boyfriend.

"I trust you," whispered Blaine.

Kurt shifted so his arms rested on his knees, head staring at the moonlight on the carpeted floor. "Dave and I have a history that goes back awhile. We've…gone to school together since fifth grade. We didn't really have any interactions until high school. In 9th grade, he started…bullying me. He wasn't the only one. That's part of the reason I tried out for the Cheerios. But even after I made the squad and most of the jocks backed off, Dave…kept being physical."

Sniffling, Kurt reached for a tissue and blew his nose, inwardly rolling his eyes at himself. It'd been three years but he still became upset when talking about what had happened. "It continued through sophomore year, and then last year, I confronted him in the locker room. Alone. Which turned about to be a big fucking mistake…well, for me, anyway." He hated the way his voice trembled, giving away how much he still hurt.

"Kurt…" Blaine whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

Kurt turned and buried his face in Blaine's shoulder, pulling the boy into his lap. "I yelled at him. He told me to back off. I yelled some more. He kissed me," Kurt managed to choke out before his throat closed. Shaking uncontrollably, Kurt held on to Blaine, keeping himself grounded.

Blaine felt tears fall from his own eyes at Kurt's admission. He held Kurt tighter, running his hands across his back, hoping to comfort his boyfriend in some small way.

Eventually, Kurt's trembling lessened and he pulled back from Blaine to look him in the eye. "The shortened version is I told Santana, and she went to Dave and threatened to remove his testicles if he didn't apologize and stop torturing me." Offering a weak smile, Kurt tried to joke, "I don't know if you've noticed, but she can be pretty convincing when she wants to be."

Blaine chuckled. "Yeah, I've noticed."

"When Dave apologized, it was…sincere. And I told him that I wouldn't out him, and that if he wanted, he could always come talk to me. That's why he came to find me tonight. Because he finally got the courage up to tell his parents." Kurt stopped needing to take a deep breath before continuing.

"Dave's dad took it okay – but his mom…she…she told him that it was fine. Because…because they'd find a nice place…to send him. Where they could help him…over his…his illness. Fuck, B. She wants to send him to one of those places where they "cure" the gays."

Kurt swallowed hard. "When you came out and saw me hugging Dave, it was because I had just finished telling him that there was nothing wrong with him and that because he's 18, there's not a damn thing she can do to him without his consent," he explained angrily.

"And, honestly? I wasn't paying attention to where his hands were. I really don't know. I do know that when _your_ hands are on me, I know _exactly_ what they're doing – and how they make me feel. And in answer to your…_heated_ questions earlier about whether he makes me fall apart and touches me like you do…**_fuck_** **no**. You're the _only_ one, Hobbit. **The**. **Only**. **One**. To make me feel like this. **The**. **Only**. **One**. I want touching me." Gently he caressed Blaine's cheekbones and lips with his thumbs, gazing into his eyes.

Reaching up, Blaine took Kurt's hands and held them in his lap, slowly rubbing his thumbs over Kurt's wrists.

"That feels nice," admitted Kurt, watching the tiny movements.

Blaine was quiet for a long time before looking up into Kurt's eyes. "I believe you. But your dad…your dad said that you and Dave had dated. That he didn't understand why I was over at the house if you were out with Dave."

Kurt felt the last piece of the puzzle drop into place. Nodding, Kurt admitted, "We did. Date. For maybe three weeks in April. But…there was no…chemistry. No…_'wow, I can't keep my hands off of him_'. You know…what _we've_ had since…well, for me since you walked into my gym and asked for my help while eyefucking me," Kurt couldn't keep the smirk from his face.

Blaine bit his lip nervously. "Did you…did you two? You know…" Thousands of butterflies seemed to have taken up residence in Blaine's stomach. He was back to wanting to know but not wanting to know the answer.

Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's curls. "Do you really want to know what went on between us? Because I'll tell you, if you really want to know."

Unable to trust his voice, Blaine nodded.

Sighing, Kurt lifted Blaine off of his lap. "Okay, but I need a change of position before I lose the feeling in my legs." Toeing off his shoes and socks, he stripped off his shirt and slid over the comforter until his head was resting on the pillows. He held out his arms to Blaine, who was staring at him shaking his head slowly.

"Presume much, Hummel?" he teased before copying Kurt's actions.

"C'mere you sexy hobbit," Kurt encouraged, holding his arms out wide. Once Blaine had settled against his chest, Kurt kissed the top of his head. "I think we should make a rule that when we're together, there are no shirts. I really like _this_," Kurt admitted, sliding his hands over the smooth expanse of skin on Blaine's back.

Blaine moved his head to place a chaste kiss over Kurt's heart. "I think that would work well for now…but come winter, it might be too cold," he observed.

"Hmmm…I guess that's just when we have to use our body heat to keep each other from catching hypothermia. I'd be game to try if you are," Kurt replied.

Blaine tilted his head up so he could look Kurt in the eye, running his fingers through Kurt's hair fondly. "You're avoiding, Kurt. Please tell me how far you went with Dave…and then…"

He hesitated.

"And then?" encouraged Kurt.

Nuzzling into Kurt's neck, Blaine's response was muffled. "Then, you can show me how much better I am…than him…at those things."

Kurt's response was to snicker and roll Blaine until the younger boy was underneath him. Deliberately, he took both of Blaine's hands and raised them above his head, in a position of submission. Smiling down at Blaine, Kurt shook his head. "You have no idea how much better you are. In everything. And yes, I think a lot of that has to do with…how much you mean to me. But, yes, Hobbit, you are so much better at getting me off."

Sitting up, Kurt carefully straddled Blaine's waist before sitting back on his knees. When Blaine drew up his knees behind him, Kurt leaned against them and held out his hands so Blaine could intertwine their fingers. Clearing his throat, Kurt took a deep breath and began. "We went out to the movies and held hands. On the way home, we ended up parking the car and making out. It…I don't know…it was kinda like playing spin the bottle and you kiss someone and it's okay but nothing that you'd want to repeat."

Taking another breath, Kurt looked up towards the ceiling. "A couple days later, a bunch of us went to Six Flags. We kissed some more on some of the rides when we knew no one could see us. It wasn't any better. Dave's parents were out when we got to his house, so we decided to watch a movie…which led to more making out and…mutual handjobs."

Blaine's hold on Kurt's hands tightened at the admission.

"Hey, B? Please tell me you're okay. I don't mean to hurt you." Releasing one of Blaine's hands, Kurt ran his fingers through Blaine's hair, staring hard in the darkness for the tiniest hint of discomfort.

Blaine reached up to pull Kurt back down to him, holding him tight for a long moment. "What else?" he asked gruffly. "Did you ever…have sex?"

Kurt sat back up, shaking his head. "No. Not…not like you mean. Not Dave and I. After our movie night, we had one more 'incident'. We went to the park after having dinner at Breadstix with everyone, so no one would suspect anything. He asked if he could…go down on me." Kurt rolled his eyes at the memory.

"I said yes." Biting his lip, Kurt grew quieter as he explained his actions. "We were friends. Dave was still trying to accept the fact that he liked guys. It was…an offer I found difficult to refuse. So I didn't. I'd only ever been with…Adam at that point, and it felt…okay. Well, what we'd done up until that point felt okay. Let's just say…that evening decided permanently that Dave and I were only ever going to be friends."

Staring up a Kurt, Blaine took his lower lip into his mouth and lightly ran his hands over Kurt's sides. "So it wasn't very good?" he asked with a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Kurt cracked up. "Shit, Hobbit, that's the understatement of the year," he drawled. "It sucked, which is ironic given that that's the point of a blow job. Like, if I wanted to get all clinical about it, I would say it was probably because Dave wasn't comfortable with himself, so he was too nervous." Shaking his head to clear it, Kurt gazed down at Blaine.

"I'd much rather analyze how super sexy my hobbit sized boyfriend looks while trying to persuade him to allow me to take advantage of him," Kurt emphasized by running his hands over the planes of Blaine's chest, taking time to caress Blaine's nipples into hardened peaks. For his part, Blaine had his eyes tightly shut and was wriggling beneath Kurt's attentive hands.

"Can I tell you as secret, Hobbit?" Kurt whispered against his ear.

Blaine's answer was a pleasure filled moan.

"You're really hot when you're angry. I was so worried when you walked away, but when you came back and took control – fuck, you have no idea how turned on by that I was." Kurt took Blaine's earlobe between his teeth and began to suckle as the sophomore's breathing became more and more erratic.

"I think I do," answered Blaine in a breathy tone. "You were rubbing your cock against my leg pretty much the whole time, Kurt."

Shifting his position slightly, Kurt slotted their legs together, taking his weight onto his arms. "Kinda like this?" he rasped, moving his hips so he was rocking against Blaine.

"Yeah, like that," Blaine mumbled, bringing his hands around to the curves of Kurt's ass. "It turns you on when I take control, doesn't it?"

Kurt stilled, wrapping his arms around Blaine's shoulders and dropping his head into his shoulder. "Yes," he whispered. "Is that…weird? 'Cause I'm older?"

"Kurt, sit up for a minute," Blaine asked, more coherent than he'd been for the last several minutes. After Kurt had rolled off him and sat cross legged on the bed, Blaine knelt before him. "You don't think it's weird that it really turns me on when you pull on my hair, right?"

"No."

"Okay, and you weren't weirded out when I actually liked that you…you spanked me, right?"

"No, that was…"

"Exactly. Fucking hot. And until we started…messing around, I had no idea I liked either of those things. If you like it when I get bossy and demanding – well, then I can get bossy and demanding in the bedroom anytime you want. It doesn't have to be all the time. I'm not gonna lie, it was really hot when you manhandled me in the shower." Blaine stole a brief kiss from Kurt's lips before sitting back on his knees.

"Now," he began in a more forceful tone. "I still think you need to make tonight's events up to me. You made me very jealous, Kurt," he sing-songed while tracing a line with his index finger from Kurt's collarbone to just below his navel. "I want you to climb off of this bed and strip for me. Then you are going to show me exactly how sorry you are – using only your mouth." Blaine pulled at Kurt's belt, loosening it from the clasp.

"Fuck," Kurt managed to breathe out.

Shaking his head slowly, Blaine replied, "No, not yet. That's your reward for winning Nationals, remember. But if you're…sincere...in your…apology, then I can assure you, you will be…well sated."

He watched with lust as Blaine slid out of his own pants and underwear, throwing them on the floor next to the bed, before taking his erection in hand and stroking deliberately. "Well sated?"

"Mmmm…does my vocabulary turn you on?"

"Almost as much as your cock, Hobbit." Kurt scrambled off the bed, quickly shucking off his pants and underwear.

Blaine giggled, breaking character for a moment. Shaking off his momentary lapse, he rearranged the pillows on his bed so he could recline on them and then Kurt his best sultry look. "Come hither and give forth of your vast oral talents. It pleases me when your tongue dances across the turgid flesh of mine nether regions."

Tilting his head to the side, Kurt hesitated momentarily in his climb back onto Blaine's bed.

"I fucking love it when you go down on me, Hummel. Come here and suck my co-" was as far as Blaine got before Kurt did exactly that. He lavished attention on every inch of Blaine's inner thighs, cock, balls and the sensitive stretch of skin leading to his ass. Kurt was creating a mental map of Blaine – of Blaine's areas of pleasure, what drew soft sighs, heated gasps, desperate mewls, and deep moans.

Kurt knew what he was doing, pushing Blaine right up to the edge, before backing off suddenly, moving his mouth to the back of a knee, or his bicep, or those beautiful cut lines that defined his hips. The fourth time Kurt had Blaine whimpering with need, he pulled off, swiping the head of Blaine's cock with the bottom of his tongue one last time before placing a soft kiss on Blaine's lips.

"You're wreaked, babe."

"Fuck, Kurt. You did this to me," he accused with no heat.

"You asked me to apologize. Do you? Accept my apology?" Kurt continued to drop soft kisses on Blaine's mouth, not allowing the other boy to deepen them.

Blaine threw an arm across his eyes. "I don't like fighting with you, Kurt. But, shit, if the makeup sexy times are as good as this…fuck, we need to schedule a fight at least once a week," he sighed.

Reaching behind Blaine, Kurt grabbed a pillow. "Scoot down and turn on your side, towards me," he directed while tossing the pillow he'd taken down towards Blaine's thighs. Sliding down, Kurt positioned himself so that he could once again take Blaine into his mouth.

"Kurt?" asked a hesitant Blaine.

Kurt reached out a hand and ran it soothingly across the gorgeous curves of Blaine's ass and thighs. "If you don't want to, you don't have to B. I just thought you might like to…you know, have something to suck on? Keep your mouth occupied? Prove how much better you are at giving head than Dave will ever be?" challenged Kurt playfully.

Folding the pillow under his neck, Kurt ran one hand under Blaine's legs to hold him before running his tongue along the swollen flesh. Wrapping his free hand around the base of Blaine's cock, Kurt took just the head in his mouth and suckled languidly, in no rush to bring Blaine to orgasm. But that changed when he suddenly felt himself enveloped in tight, wet heat.

Unable to help himself, Kurt moaned around Blaine, the vibrations of which only caused Blaine to groan himself and suck harder around Kurt causing him to moan again and take Blaine even deeper. This made Blaine bob his head faster, actually pulling Kurt's hips to encourage him to thrust into his mouth.

Kurt pushed at Blaine's hip, rolling the both of them so Blaine was once again on his back. Neither one of them stopped during this process. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's hips, hands squeezing his ass cheeks to bring him even closer, while he could feel Blaine's hands skimming his over his own ass, thighs, legs and anywhere else Blaine could reach.

Carefully, Kurt began to thrust shallowly into Blaine's mouth as the other boy seemed to rise up to meet the thrusts. The only sounds in the room were puffs of air being blasted out their noses and the nearly constant muffled moans of pleasure.

Suddenly, the edge was there and Kurt tumbled off first, pulling Blaine with him. And what a ride to the bottom it was. When the last trembling vestige of pleasure passed through him, Kurt bonelessly maneuvered so he was again lying face to face with Blaine and dropped a kiss on the sophomore's forehead. Blaine, for his part, had both hands clasped on his heart, and was muttering, "Fuck. Fuck. Oh, fuck. That was…fuck." Repeatedly.

Wrapping his arms around Blaine, Kurt pulled him to his chest, comforted by the warm, slightly salty skin under his hands, and the warm puffs of breath against his neck. He could feel sleep beginning to overtake him, but he really wanted to tell Blaine something before they passed out from exhaustion and really amazing sex.

"B?"

"Hmm?"

"I love…this. What we have. You being my boyfriend. All of it," he offered shyly.

Blaine nodded against his chest. "I know. I love you, too," he replied quietly tightening his hold on Kurt as if afraid the senior would disappear into the night.

"I…"

"Sshhh. Sleep good. Talk later."

"Night, Hobbit."

"Night."

* * *

**_End Note:_** _Eventually the boys will be interacting with more than just the two of them (and no, I did not mean that sexually - stop over-analyzing). But since in the fanfiction world we can write what will never be seen on FOX, I feel almost an...obligation, if you will, to explore what goes on after the television screen fades to black - or switches to a red piano (nope, not over that, and it's a choice, thank you kindly). Will be posting again this weekend & beginning work on then next chapter of Shove Me into Shallow Waters. -k8_


	10. Grounded Until I'm Married

**_A/N: _**_I write, primarily, as a form of stress relief. Each time I add a chapter to any of my stories, I am amazed to see people all over the world reading, favoriting, following and reviewing something I wrote - for my own therapy. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for that. __  
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**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is rated M for adult language and sexual situations. If either of these things will make you uncomfortable, then I feel obligated to ask: Why are you still reading this after nine chapters?_

**_Disclaimer:_**_I do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed. (Maybe a little tired, worn out...but unharmed)_

* * *

**Chapter 10: Grounded Until I'm Married**

As consciousness slowly overtook him, Kurt realized how deliciously cool his back felt in contrast to the burning inferno that engulfed his torso. Blinking in confusion, it took him several moments to realize the bedroom – and bed – he was lying in weren't his own. Lifting his head from the pillow, the events of last night came crashing back. Well, _that_ explained why he was pressed up against the naked form of his hobbit.

Curled up on his side, Blaine breathed slowly as he continued to slumber. At some point in the night, Kurt had wrapped himself around Blaine's smaller form. His arm lay across Blaine's waist, hand splayed possessively on the soft skin of his lower belly. Kurt marveled in the intimate feeling of skin on skin contact, wriggling his hips and thighs against the naked curves of Blaine's ass. True, most of the time, all Kurt wanted to do was strip and mark the boy – but at this exact moment, what he wanted most in the world was to bottle **_this_** and keep it forever.

Nuzzling his face into Blaine's curls, he allowed himself to gently caress Blaine's chest and belly, memorizing the peaks and valleys of his developing muscles, charting the areas that were beginning to develop darker hair, and the ridge of scar tissue that proved just how resilient and brave Blaine truly was.

If he didn't fear being caught by Blaine's grandfather and summarily banned from the Ladd residence forever – or the wrath of his father, who was probably going to kill Kurt for not coming home last night, let alone not calling to let him know where he was, Kurt would have been content to watch Blaine sleep until his internal clock woke him up. Unfortunately, those two concerns were real – and Kurt couldn't afford to the luxury of an extended snuggle session.

Placing a series of light kisses on the nape of Blaine's neck and shoulder, Kurt worked to slip from Blaine's bed without waking him up. When he was finally free, Kurt grabbed up his briefs from the floor, stepping into them with practiced ease, before reaching for his pants. Dressed on the bottom half, he padded barefoot into the bathroom attached to Blaine's room, proceeding to use Blaine's toothbrush to rid himself of that gummy, early morning mouth feeling.

Really, if Blaine couldn't share a toothbrush with the guy who was regularly sucking on his cock – there was a problem with their relationship.

Finished, he made a not even half-hearted attempt to fix his hair before returning to the bedroom and snatching up the t-shirt Blaine had been wearing the night before. Sliding it over his head, Kurt realized that it was a size too small, but didn't really care. He liked the way in clung to his chest. And he liked the way it smelled like Blaine.

"Morning, sunshine," came a muffled, raspy voice from the bed. "You, um…you look kinda hot wearing my clothes," Blaine managed to mutter, before dropping his head back onto the pillow and flopping onto his back.

Striding over to the bed, Kurt leaned over and framed Blaine with his arms, kissing him deliberately. "I know," he answered with a smug, satisfied tone. Brushing back Blaine's mess of curls with his fingers, Kurt sighed.

"I have to go, Hobbit. It's morning – and as much as I really want to stay here with you…, I don't want your grandfather to find us like this. And I'm gonna have to explain a hell of a lot of shit to my dad to not end up grounded until I'm married."

Despite his sleepiness, Blaine looked at Kurt with concern. "Until you're married? _Nooo_. No me gusta." He quoted one of Santana's favorite sayings.

"It just means you'll have to learn to sneak into my room…because I'm not willing to give you up." Kurt brushed his lips over Blaine's, sorely tempted to strip off his clothing and join Blaine again. Once more and then Kurt forced himself away.

Standing outside the window in the morning chill, Kurt smiled at Blaine. "Hobbit?"

"Yeah, Kurt?"

"You rock my world."

"Love you, too."

Kurt smirked. "I'll text you later."

Snuggling back into his pillow, Blaine offered a half-hearted wave. "You better," he called.

* * *

Mr. Ladd raised the mug of warm coffee to his lips, sipping slowly as he watched the world wake up. Sitting on his front porch at the small table and chair that he used every morning for this ritual, he was rather surprised to see his grandson's fellow leaving the house in such…an unexpected manner. Glancing over at his companion, he shrugged.

"Don't look at me like that, Mabel. I'm the boy's grandfather. That job description is supposed to come with certain benefits – like not having to give your grandson a sex talk, or disciplining him for sneaking someone into his bedroom."

Mabel continued to stare at him with her brilliant green eyes not offering anything more.

"Don't. Just don't with me, Miss Mabel." He waved his finger back and forth. "The boy is entitled to some happiness. And it doesn't take an expert to see how much they care about one another."

Taking another long sip of the bitter liquid, Mr. Ladd looked up to the sky. Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, he concluded, "_Fine_. **Fine**. I'll _talk_ to him. But that's it. I am **not** going to make that boy feel unwelcome in his own home." He picked up the paper and continued to work on the crossword puzzle.

"What's a four letter word for a Hawaiian bird?" he asked.

Stretching, Mabel nudged Mr. Ladd's hand with her head, purring contentedly when he began to scratch her light grey fur.

* * *

Using his key, Kurt let himself into Hummel Tires and Lube. Having called Finn, he'd learned that his father was _very_ much aware that he'd not come home last night, was, in Finn's estimation, more disappointed in Kurt's behavior than pissed, and already at work.

He found his dad in his office, staring at the computer screen. Wordlessly, he handed his dad the paper bag containing a healthier breakfast sandwich and two doughnut holes. Burt took it, placing it to the side and leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms, and giving Kurt what he deemed as '_The Dad Stare-Down_".

Kurt sat on the edge of the desk and looked at his hands which were folded in his lap. "I fell asleep at Blaine's. I broke curfew. I didn't call you to let you know I was safe. I made you worry about me. And for all of those things, I am truly sorry, Dad." Looking up, Kurt saw his father was listening carefully to his words.

"I'm sorry I fucked up so badly. I think I pretty much broke every rule you ever truly asked me to follow."

Burt chuckled, reaching over to place a hand over Kurt's. "No, not _all_ of them. You still haven't broken the one about not having your old man walk in on you while having sex." Burt watched as a pink flush spread across Kurt's face. "And, for the record, I'm perfectly happy to have that one unbroken."

Shifting in his seat, Burt turned more serious. "Kurt, son, what's going on? I find you in bed with that boy, as naked as I ever want to see the two of you. Then Sam and Finn tell me you went off with that Dave kid, but you fall asleep at Blaine's? I'm having a hard time keeping up with the game."

Kurt stood up, walking around to look at the OSHA safety posters hung in the office. "It's not like that, Dad." Glancing over his shoulder at his father, Kurt explained, "There is absolutely nothing between Dave Karofsky and I. That was a bridge to nowhere. Seriously, I'd rather kiss Finn – and that's saying a lot."

Burt raised an eye at his son.

"We kissed…at a party. Playing Spin The Bottle. And even with the fact that he's my brother – and straight as they come, and the whole thing was awkward as hell - there was more chemistry between **us**, than between me and Dave." Kurt answered honestly. "And apparently, _someone_ – last night – mentioned to my _boyfriend_, that Dave and I had dated." Tilting his head, he looked pointedly at his father.

"Told you, did he?"

Kurt crossed his arms across his chest. "Yes. It was part of our very lengthy conversation. Dave needed someone to listen. He's dealing with some heavy crap at home, and I've always told him I'd be there for him as a friend."

Striding over to his dad, he wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his face into his father's ever present flannel. "Thank you for being the amazing dad you are. Thank you for never making me feel different or wrong or anything less than a son you are 100% proud of."

Burt tightened his hold on Kurt. "This have to do with Dave…or Blaine?" he asked softly.

"Dave's mom wants to send him to a place that will cure the gay out of him," Kurt whispered, flinching at the curse words that streamed from his dad. Standing up, Kurt placed his hands on Burt's shoulders. "I think he's in a better place emotionally since we talked. But from what I worked out, sometime after you mentioned my '_thing'_ with Dave, Blaine walked out of the house just in time to see the two of us hugging."

Sitting back down on his dad's desk, Kurt was quiet for a long time. "I…I really _like_ him, Dad. I know it's only been like…six weeks since I met him, but it feels like I've known him forever. I was so scared last night when he walked away from me – without letting me explain what was going on. The thought of losing him…"

Burt squeezed his son's knee. "Sounds like you need to invite him over for dinner so we can meet him officially. You know, with clothes."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt let out an exasperated, "_Daaad_."

"I promise not to be scary. But if he's good enough to be part of your life, then he's good enough to bring home to me and Carole. Really, Kurt, I'd just really like to get to know the boy who's stolen your heart."

Pressing his lips together at the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, Kurt nodded. "I'll figure out when a good time is for everyone. Thank you."

Burt stood and gave one last hug to Kurt. "I trust you. Your mom would be so proud of the man you're becoming. Just…don't move quicker than your guardian angel can fly, okay?"

"I promise, Dad. I promise."

* * *

To: Hobbit

From: KEHummel

What u up 2?

To: Sexy Cheer Captain

From: BDAnderson

Studying. Hmwk. Hanging w/ my Papa.

To: Hobbit

From: KEHummel

Wnt company? Miss u

To: Sexy Cheer Captain

From: BDAnderson

You left 6hrs ago

To: Hobbit

From: KEHummel

Ur point? I miss u & ur kisses & other stuff

To: Sexy Cheer Captain

From: BDAnderson

O.o You, sir, are insatiable.

To: Hobbit

From: KEHummel

Didn't hear complaints last nite.

To: Sexy Cheer Captain

From: BDAnderson

My mouth was full

To Hobbit

From: KEHummel

OMFG – BLAAAAIIIINNNE!

To: Sexy Cheer Captain

From: BDAnderson

Yes, that's what you moaned. Repeatedly.

To: Sexy Cheer Captain

From: BDAnderson

Come over. In backyard. Side gate is open. Bring homework. Seriously. Papa is gardening outside. I'm the hobbit in the hammock under the fig tree.

To: Hobbit

From: KEHummel

Be there in 20.

* * *

Slipping through the wooden gate, Kurt couldn't help but ring the cowbell hung at the top, announcing his presence. As he started walking along the side of the house, he was surprised at how far back the property continued. Once he reached the end of the house, Kurt looked around. He was standing on a cement patio that extended from the house to the lawn which seemed to go on forever until it ran into an enormous garden filled with flowers, vegetables and fruit trees.

Looking to his right, Kurt caught sight of a Blaine's grandfather. "Hi, Mr. Ladd!" Kurt called out loudly, waving at the elderly man who looked up at him with a fond smile.

"Kurt. Good to see you again. Come to see Blaine, have you? Come here for a moment," he beckoned the boy over with his head, hands full. When Kurt had joined him, he explained. "We're drying apricots for the winter. Sun dried from our trees over there. The sun makes the sugars concentrate. The most delicious bite of goodness you'll ever taste. If you'd like, I'll send some home with you."

Kurt watched with attention as the elderly man slipped each apricot out of its furry coat, sliced out the pit and laid the two halves on a handmade screen. It was fascinating how much knowledge Blaine's grandfather had in his head. "I'd love that, Mr. Ladd. Anything you're willing to share," he replied with sincerity.

Chuckling, Blaine's grandfather looked over his shoulder. "You'll find the boy back that-a-way. He's under the shady fig tree doing school work. If you follow the steppin' stones back to where it splits, take the left pathway. What're you planning on studying – besides my grandson?"

Damn if the old man wasn't smirking at him. Kurt felt himself flush with embarrassment. "Um…I…Mr. Ladd." Tripping over his own words, Kurt gripped the strap to his messenger bag.

"Pshaw, boy. You needn't hide from me – Blaine doesn't. For weeks now, the boy breaks into the widest grin each time he mentions your name. And it doesn't take a genius to realize that you feel the same towards him. Go…study…and get some homework done too. And remember, I'm an old man. My heart doesn't need any shocks, you hear?" He turned back to his work, pulling out another apricot and whistling a tune to himself.

Unable to help himself, Kurt walked behind Blaine's grandfather and wrapped an arm around his chest, hugging the man from behind. "Thank you." He swallowed hard before finishing. "Blaine's so lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have him. I promise…we'll keep it PG." Stepping back, Kurt turned to walk across the grass.

"Three minutes," called Mr. Ladd.

Kurt turned, walking backwards, "I'm sorry, what did you say, Mr. Ladd?"

Blaine's grandfather leaned a hip against the picnic table he was working on. "You get three minutes of R rating, and then it needs to stay PG. Once upon a time, I was a young man, too," he teased with a wink.

Laughing, Kurt waved again and turned to follow the step stone pathway into the garden.

* * *

It was freaking magical – like something out of a Disney movie. The stepping stone pathway was clearly laid by hand with mismatched chunks of concrete, aggregate, paving stones, and slate. Mature fruit trees – Kurt could identify apple, apricot, plum, orange, lemon, lime, persimmon, and fig – shaded the entire back third of the yard. Off to his right side, he could see where Blaine's grandfather had planted grapes on arbors.

Along the pathway ran those miniature roses that his dad often gave Carole, who seemed to kill the potted plants – usually within the week. In fact, Mr. Ladd might be the only person on this earth who was capable of keeping those roses alive. When he reached the back fence, Kurt noted where the pathway split to the left and right – although it also continued straight to a gate in the fence line. Listening hard, he swore he could hear running water.

Circling to the left, Kurt admired how taller, flowering plants and shrubs completely separated this part of the garden off from the sightline from the house. It was its own little island oasis, of sorts. Spotting Blaine, Kurt chose to stop to admire the view.

Shirtless, Blaine was stretched out on a hammock, one arm tucked under his head, the other holding what appeared to be an English book. The sophomore wore a look of studious concentration, intensified by the glasses with thick black frames that were perched on his nose. Westerville Middle School was stamped in faded yellow on the right leg of the tight navy shorts Blaine was sporting. _Fuck_. Could he look any hotter? Kurt was pretty sure he was just moments away from spontaneously combusting.

"Did you enjoy the tour?" Blaine teased, not looking up from his book. "Was there something you wanted, besides feeling me up with your eyes?" He couldn't help the grin that burst forth at repeating Kurt's first words to him.

Stalking towards him, Kurt tossed his messenger bag on a nearby wooden chair and carefully straddled the hammock. Yanking off his shirt, he threw that in the general direction of the chair as well, not particularly caring if it made it or not. Not when his boyfriend was spread out for the taking.

"It's not wise to provoke me, _Hobbit_," advised Kurt who carefully lowered himself down to sit between Blaine's legs. Placing his hands on either side of Blaine's waist, Kurt slid them higher until their hands were intertwined above Blaine's head, their lips barely an inch apart. Kurt kept his feet on the ground, not wanting to tumble them both out of the hammock with their…activity.

"_Kuuurrt_," whined Blaine softly. "My grandfather-"

Kurt brushed his lips against Blaine's, feeling the other boy twitch against his own hardness. "Said we could have three minutes of R rated sexy times, then we had to keep it PG." Dropping wet kisses along Blaine's jaw line, Kurt pulled his hands away from Blaine's and lowered them to his shorts, pushing them down Blaine's hips.

"Fuck, Kurt. My grandfather did **not** use the phrase '_sexy_ _times'_." Blaine may have been trying to voice his qualms about messing around with Kurt, but that didn't stop him from raising his hips to allow Kurt to push his shorts down to his knees.

Kurt pulled away slightly to gaze into Blaine's eyes. "**Why** are you arguing with me, Anderson? I swear, what you should be asking yourself is whether I can get you off in under three minutes. And what the _fuck_ were you thinking when you put on these shorts? And no underwear? _Fuck_, Hobbit, that's practically _begging_ for it."

The kiss that followed was dirty. Blaine's mouth opened almost immediately, allowing Kurt's tongue entrance. It was deep, and hot and slow – and they had all afternoon to work on kissing – but the clock was ticking otherwise. Forcing himself to pull away, Kurt carefully moved down Blaine's body, dropping kisses, until he reached his destination.

Starting at the base of Blaine's cock, Kurt ran the tip of his tongue and lips along the underside until he reached the head, where he lapped as if he was eating the most delicious ice cream cone. Aware at how hard Blaine was working at staying quiet, and keeping still, Kurt kissed the tip of Blaine's cock and sat up slightly. "You're doing such a _good_ job for me, babe. Are you going to be able to stay quiet for me?" he asked, voice raspy.

"_Yessss_," hissed Blaine, eyes tightly shut. "Promise."

Quickly, Kurt captured Blaine's lips before whispering into his ear. "You weren't so successful at keeping quiet _last_ _time_ we were somewhere we could get caught. Do you remember what I had to do to punish you, Hobbit?"

Blaine's trembling increased. "_Fuck_, Kurt, just…just suck me off, already. Stop teasing and do it." All coherence went out of Blaine's mind as Kurt's mouth descended on him. Tangling his fingers into the hammock's ropes, Blaine desperately held on while trying to let go.

It didn't take long. Under other circumstances, Blaine might actually be embarrassed at how quickly Kurt had been able to get him off – but since they had a time limit – he wouldn't stress over it. Lifting his hips, he allowed Kurt to pull his shorts back into place as he worked at catching his breath. Reaching an arm out, he grabbed his glass of homemade lemonade from the table he'd placed all his schoolwork on, and offered it to Kurt, who took it with gratitude.

"God, that's delicious." Kurt reached across to place the glass back on the table.

"Homemade. Always better." Blaine pushed himself up and slid closer to Kurt, slipping his arms around the senior's waist. "I…_that_…_shit_, Kurt. I can't even talk."

"It's an overrated skill set, Hobbit. Besides, just wearing those glasses makes you seem nerdy smart." Kurt pulled Blaine closer, running his hands gently over the smaller boy's back. Slowly, Kurt rocked the hammock with his toes.

"Nerdy smart?"

"Like in the _hottest_ fucking way. I think I might have been able to resist you if you hadn't had them on. Since when do you wear glasses?" Kurt couldn't help running his fingers through Blaine's curls when the younger boy snuggled his head into Kurt's shoulder.

"Since forever," mumbled Blaine. "I wear contacts at school, obviously. You really like them?"

Kurt snickered. "Three words: **So** **Fucking** **Hot**. Never knew I had a thing for nerdy smart guys. Well, one in particular, anyway."

They were content to sit rocking back and forth in the shade of the fig tree for quite some time until Blaine yawned widely. "Sorry. It's not you, I promise," he said with a smile, pulling back from Kurt's embrace. "Kurt? Will I always be this tired? I mean, is it me? Or Cheerios?" Blaine hesitated before smirking, "Or is it possible that my boyfriend gave me a case of mono?"

Kurt laughed, nudging Blaine backwards until he lay back down on the hammock. Kurt took up the opposite position, taking Blaine's foot in hand, massaging it firmly. "It's an adjustment. It's your body working to get used to the physical activity and you're not taking an easy set of classes either. I can also confirm that if I had mono, you would definitely have it too. I don't by the way." Kurt's fingers worked their magic, pressing deep into the tissue of Blaine's heel.

"Oh my God, don't stop Kurt!" Blaine groaned loudly. Realizing how loudly he'd spoken, Blaine turned red. "It's just a foot rub, Papa, I swear," he shouted.

His grandfather's voice came from the direction of the grape arbors. "Is _that_ what they call it? Your three minutes was up twenty minutes ago," he teased.

"_Papa_!" Trying to sit up, Blaine was stopped by Kurt's hand. Flopping back down, he dropped his other foot into Kurt's lap.

Mr. Ladd rounded the corner carrying several bunches of grapes with him. "Ah, I see. It _was_ a foot rub. Carry on then. Brought you some grapes." Walking over to the small patio table Blaine had his lemonade on, he placed the grapes next to the glass. "Need some more lemonade?"

"Yes, please." Blaine answered immediately. He knew how much it meant to his grandfather that the elderly man was able to take care of Blaine occasionally.

Nodding, his grandfather shuffled off towards the house. Pausing, he turned to smile at the boys once more. "Shall I bring another glass? Or will you two be sharing…out of a sense of _water_ _conservation_?"

Unable to contain the mirth, Kurt burst out laughing. He was really beginning to love Blaine's grandfather. "Well, we _do_ live in a global society, Mr. Ladd. Live simply so others can simply live, and things of that nature."

Blaine's face was buried under his arm, hiding from both Kurt and his grandfather. Dear Lord, what would happen if the two of them ever decided to gang up on him? He didn't think he'd survive.

It took some time, but by the time Blaine and Kurt had settled back with their school books to do some actual studying, Mr. Ladd reappeared with an afternoon snack and a fresh pitcher of iced lemonade. He'd actually put the food in a picnic basket to make it easier to carry, while managing the plastic pitcher at the same time.

"Here you go, boys," he said as he set the items on the table, "Enjoy. I'm going to put my feet up and watch some college football in the den. Behave! Even if you don't really want to." He leaned over to place a kiss on the top of Blaine's head before shuffling three more steps and dropping one on Kurt's head as well.

"Will Kurt be staying for dinner, Blaine?"

Kurt's eyes widened at the invitation and he began nodding enthusiastically at Blaine.

"I guess that's a yes, Papa. You'll call me when you start dinner, right? So I can help? Since Kurt's my guest." Blaine was pointedly attempting to get his grandfather to bend to his will. Even Kurt, who hadn't really seen much interaction between the two of the them knew that was a lost cause.

Mr. Ladd waved away Blaine's request. "As if I need help in my own kitchen. You work on your studies, boy. That's your job. That and fending off the advances of your fellow."

"_Papa_! _Enough_!" scolded Blaine in exasperation.

"Just making sure you two know you're not putting one over on me." With that he shuffled off, whistling a made-up tune, happy to see the light shining so brightly in his grandson's eyes.

Blaine snagged the basket with a hand and put it in the middle of the hammock between him and Kurt. "Hungry?"

Tilting his head to the side, Kurt sat up carefully. "Didn't you accuse me of being insatiable earlier, Hobbit? I'm always hungry…for food…and other things," he teased quietly.

Rolling his eyes, Blaine opened the picnic basket, licking his lips at the contents. "Proof my grandfather really likes you exists in here. Ah ah. No! I'll be feeding you, Mr. Hummel. You're going to have to work for my affections this afternoon. Didn't you listen to what Papa said? I can't just go giving it away for nothing."

Holding up a bright red tomato that had been sliced in half, Blaine sprinkled a touch of salt over it before offering it to Kurt. "Bite," he commanded. At Kurt's moan of pleasure, he smirked. "Yup, fresh from the garden always tastes best."

Chewing quickly, Kurt swallowed then grabbed the back of Blaine's neck to pull him in for a deep kiss. Separating just enough that he could talk, he growled out, "I think we covered that lesson about an hour ago, Hobbit." He pressed his lips against Blaine's again, enjoying the wet slide and taste of Blaine and tomato and summer.

Blaine allowed the kiss to continue for several long, heated moments, before he pushed on Kurt's chest, breaking them apart. "There's more to sample." Blaine dug into the picnic basket and pulled out the largest, fattest blackberry Kurt had ever seen. Tapping once on Kurt's lips, Blaine ordered, "Open up." Placing the berry on Kurt's lower lip, he whispered quietly, "Now…close, but don't bite down."

Kurt held the blackberry between his lips, watching as Blaine placed the picnic basket on the ground before scooting forward. Then, their lips were together once more, blackberry juice flooding their mouths as their tongues slid past each other. Reaching up, Kurt held the sides of Blaine's face, keeping his head in position as he slowly thrust in and out of his mouth.

"Fuck! Blaine, if this is how you resist my advances…I'm completely _fucked_ when you decide to seduce me." Closing his eyes, Kurt laid back down, waiting anxiously for whatever way Blaine would choose to torture him next.

"Keep your eyes closed."

"M'kay."

Kurt felt wetness dripping down his chest, pooling in his navel. "What are you doing to me, Hobbit?"

Blaine leaned forward, careful to not allow their bodies to touch. "Learning how to seduce you, apparently. Keep your eyes closed. I have another piece of fruit for you – but you need to wait to share it again. Can you do that for me, Kurt?" he was practically purring in Kurt's ear, pleased to see Kurt's shorts tenting in a very obvious way.

Opening his lips, Kurt accepted the bit of fruit from Blaine, running his tongue along it to determine it was nectarine. That was the last coherent thought he had before he arched forward in reaction to Blaine tonguing his way down from Kurt's collarbone to his navel – sucking, licking, and slurping up the juice he had lovingly laid out on his boyfriend's chest.

When he was finished making Kurt squirm, he moved to cover the senior with his body, sharing the bite of nectarine between them. Rocking gently, he allowed them both some of the friction they both desperately needed at this point. When Kurt's hands slid down to clutch the back of his thighs, he stopped holding back, bringing both of them to completion in a quick explosion of grunts, whimpers and sighs.

"Do you know how to swim?" Blaine asked when he caught his breath.

"Of course," Kurt answered in confusion.

"Hey, it's not like I'm a lifeguard. Come with me. We need to wash our love juices away," Blaine sassed, almost face planting into the dirt when his foot didn't quite clear the hammock. Trusting that Kurt was following, he went to the back gate and removed the lock and chain.

"Love juices, Hobbit? Please…never, ever use that term with me. Ever. Gross," Kurt wrinkled his nose at the thought. "Where are you taking me?"

"Papa's property backs up to Whiskey Creek. He doesn't have any neighbors on the far side. It's open reserve. But no one comes out this far. So we can do this." Blaine glanced at Kurt, shucked his shorts and, still holding on to them, leaped out into the creek water. "It's about eight or ten feet deep right now. It's easier if you take your shorts off before you get into the water…but, you know, you might have some help if you want."

Shaking his head, Kurt took two steps back before racing towards the edge, executing the perfect cannonball dive into the water below.

* * *

It was late in the evening, and they were once again curled up in the hammock, staring up at the stars in the night sky, a scrap quilt Blaine's grandmother had made years before tucked around them.

Dinner had been delicious. Mr. Ladd had made a cheesy polenta and topped it with a fresh mushroom sauce that Kurt was determined to talk him out of. Mr. Ladd had informed Kurt it was a family recipe, so marriage was a requirement, whereupon Kurt had immediately spun, dropped to one knee, and begged Blaine marry him.

They'd all laughed.

Now, as Kurt rested his head on Blaine's chest, listening the steady beat of his heart, he realized how grateful he felt for all the good in his life. Family. Friends. The Cheerios. Blaine. This was coalescing into a magical senior year.

Twisting some of Blaine's curls around his fingers, Kurt sighed. "Blaine?"

"Yeah, Kurt?" came the quiet answer.

"I want to take you out. On a date. As your boyfriend," he explained sleepily.

"Mmm…sounds good." Blaine dropped a kiss to the top of Kurt's head.

"Also, my dad wants me to bring you to dinner. So you can officially meet everyone. As my boyfriend," he continued.

"Mmm…'kay."

"He requested you wear clothes this time," Kurt teased quietly.

"God, what's with the demands? I guess we can't have sex on the dinner table either?" he sassed back.

"Not until _after_ we do the dishes."

"Noted."

They both giggled at their easy back and forth. Kurt used his toe to slowly rock the hammock. "B?"

"Yeah?"

"I…I want you to know, that…I think I'm falling in love with you."

"Mmm, that's good. 'Cause I'm pretty sure I'm falling for you too."

"So we're on the same page?"

"For once."

* * *

That was how Mr. Ladd found the boys, still wrapped up together in the hammock. Taking Blaine's cell phone he managed to take a picture of the boys and send it with a message to Kurt's father. Once Kurt's father had responded with 'go ahead and let them sleep', he shuffled back to the house and pulled a warmer blanket and a second quilt out of the linen closet.

After he had covered the boys against the evening chill, he kissed them and moved toward the house once more. Mabel blocked the pathway.

"Don't look at me like that, Mabel. They're growing boys and need their rest. Are you staying out here with them, or coming back with me?" The older man paused as if waiting for the cat to answer him.

"Well, when you figure out your mind, let me know," he grumbled moving past the grey cat.

Mabel looked at the boys and then back at Mr. Ladd. Her mind made up, she carefully picked her way down the path towards the house.

* * *

_**End Note:**_ So when I originally sketched out Chapter 7 - it actually contained everything that has gone into Chapters 7, 8, 9 and 10. I guess I wrote too much. shrugs You're reading this, so I'm guessing there aren't too many complaints. In terms of the story timeline, this is still early September - and I envision the story going through March - April of Kurt's senior year. We will be returning to the cheerleading focus of the story for a bit (unless the boys hijack the story). Thanks again for reading! k8


	11. Not As Well As I Do

**_A/N: _**_Write what you know. The story comes more easily when I do. Random fact: I attended every high school football game, home and away, when I was a HS student. I truly have amazing parents, because they made this our family activity on Friday nights and I can't imagine my HS career without those games or the sense of pride and spirit in engendered in all of us. I worked in the announcing booth, sporting binoculars, telling the announcer which players were making the plays. I sat in the window, legs hanging out of the booth, right above our 'letter girls' who were never taught the basics of football. What follows here (in regards to the cheerleading) is based on true events.__  
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**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is rated M for adult language and sexual situations._

**_Disclaimer:_**_I do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed. (Maybe a little tired, worn out...but unharmed)_

* * *

**Chapter 11: A Good Defense**

"Defense attack! Get that ball back. Defense attack! Get that ball back. D-E-F-E-N-S-E, Defense! Defense! D-E-F-E-N-S-E, Defense! Defense!" Thirty-five McKinley cheerleaders, arms synchronized in sharp movements, yelled to support the defensive squad of their junior varsity football team.

Unfortunately, the offense had possession of the ball.

Seated in the stands, crushed between Kurt and Sam, Blaine cringed. Turning so his mouth was next to Kurt's ear, Blaine practically had to shout to be heard over the incessant chanting of the girls standing three rows behind them. "Who are these girls and why are they cheering for the other team?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, before leaning towards Blaine to answer. ""Figgins wanted to expand the opportunities for school spirit. Two years ago he 'invented' Letter Girls to spell out McKinley Titans. 15 more spots including the girl who wears the Titan icon on her sweater," he grumbled. "Fucking Letter Girls. Mostly untalented freshmen who wouldn't have a snowball's chance in hell of making the Cheerios," he grumbled.

Frowning, Blaine admonished, "Kurt."

"Sorry to offend your congenial nature, but it's the truth," Kurt replied in a tone that clearly implied he was anything but sorry for his observation. Raising his voice and speaking over his shoulder towards a dark haired girl wearing the 'Y' on her sweater, he spat, "They're FUCKING CHEERING FOR THE **_DEFENSE_** WHEN IT'S OUR **_OFFENSE_** ON THE FIELD."

Without missing a beat, the fifteen girls facing the field managed to switch cheers mid-breath. "O-F-F-E-N-S-E, Offense! Offense! O-F-F-E-N-S-E, Offense! Offense!"

Without much consideration, Kurt reached over and took Blaine's hand in his own squeezing it in a death grip, hoping that physical contact with his boyfriend might keep him from having a coronary right here in the vistors' stands. "The problem, Hobbit, is it was decided that since the Letter Girls face the field during the game, they should call the cheers for the JV games. This, however, is the third year that they've had an incompetent moron as Captain. She's forever calling the wrong cheers for the game situation."

Despite Blaine's attempt at keeping Kurt from turning, Kurt managed to twist enough to burst out, "Here's a clue, Jendi. When **we** have the ball, it's our **OFFENSE** on the field. When **they** have the ball, it's our **defense**. We _only_ score when _we_ have the ball."

"Technically, Kurt, that's not necessarily true. There are several ways-" Blaine supplied before realizing that continuing his sentence was probably going to give himself a serious case of blue balls given the manner in which Kurt was glaring at him.

"FML," Kurt groaned in frustration, wiping his face with his free hand. "Why do I put up with you, Hobbit?"

"'Cause he's adorably fun sized." Sam, who was sitting next to Blaine, answered without looking away from the game.

"'Cause he puts up with you and your moods." Seated behind Kurt and Blaine, Finn offered a half-shrug as Kurt turned to glower at him.

"'Cause he gives good head," cackled Santana from the other side of Kurt. Smirking at the icy glares she received from both Kurt and Blaine, she raised an eyebrow. "What? You gonna deny it?" Waiting three beats, Santana's grin only grew as she watched the pink flush overtake both Kurt and Blaine's faces. "Yeah, I didn't think so. _Wanky_."

Kurt felt Blaine guide their intertwined hands into the pocket of Blaine's navy peacoat, where they wouldn't be on display for everyone sitting around them. Most of the varsity football team along with a significant number of other 'jocks' were packed in tight around them.

This week's games were being held at a school located about halfway between Lima and Westerville. It had been a long 40 minute drive, and the biggest pain was they were going to have to make the drive again tomorrow after school. Because the home team's school didn't have lights for their football stadium, the games had to be split so they could be completed before it became too dark. Junior Varsity was playing on a Thursday afternoon; Varsity would play tomorrow afternoon at 3:30.

While not required to, because of the lengthy drive, the Varsity Cheerio squad had decided to attend the game in support of their JV counterparts. Wearing street clothes at the command of Coach Sylvester who'd announced that her sad sacks of flesh couldn't be trusted not to soil their uniforms, they tended to blend in with the other students who'd come to watch their friends play.

"Sage! Rosemary!" called Blaine, standing up to wave at the girls who'd just arrived during the second quarter. As one, they turned and smiled at him, climbing up the metal stairs to push their way so they could sit with their friends.

Santana smacked two sophomores who played on varsity on the backs of their heads. "If you'd like to keep all your body parts attached, I suggest you find a different place to sit, gentlemen," she threatened with a smile.

Sage chuckled as the boys scrambled to find seats lower in the stands. "Will you look at that, Ro? Two seats just magically opened up. Guess you don't have to sit on Sam's lap after all," she sassed at her twin as she slid down the bleacher to sit in front of Blaine and Sam.

"Damn," sighed Rosemary dramatically. "I was looking forward to that, too." Rosemary bent to give Blaine a fierce hug. "How's it going, B?" she asked cheerfully.

Holding on to the wool Cheerio jacket she was sporting Blaine helped her as she climbed over his legs. "Pretty good, Ro. You still coming over on Sunday to work on our Spanish project?" he asked.

"Claro que si," she answered with a grin. As she turned to sit, Sam caught her elbow.

"Where's _my_ hug?" he asked with a pout.

If he hadn't been watching Rosemary carefully, Blaine might have missed the darkening of the pink tinge of her cheeks. With a roll of her eyes, she wrapped her arms around Sam, giving him a quick hug before climbing down to sit next to her sister and leaning back against Blaine's legs.

"Why does Fabray look like she's been sucking on a lemon?" asked Sage, turning to place an arm across Kurt's knees. When her eyes drifted down, she noticed Kurt's hand disappearing into the pocket of Blaine's coat. Meeting their eyes, she winked before continuing. "Or has she? Been sucking on a lemon?"

Pursing his lips, Kurt shook his head. "Nah. She's livid because Jendi has been screwing up the calls yet again."

"Christ! Seriously? How hard is it? She managed to learn 57 different cheers and chants. How fucking difficult is it to absorb the knowledge that when the big guys wearing Titans on their jerseys have possession of the football – it's our offense on the field?" Sage grumbled in annoyance.

"Hey, you're preaching to the choir, girlfriend," Kurt replied. Noting that Blaine was about to interupt, Kurt held up his hand to stop him. "Uh uh. Don't even start. You're fucking Pollyanna, Hobbit, and this isn't the time for it." Kurt complained.

Finn pulled on Kurt's shoulder and leaned down so that he would only be overheard by the Cheerios. "Dude, wait? I thought…you two…" he gestured between Kurt and Blaine. "Who's this Pollyanna chick? Blaine, I thought you were…you know…into guys."

It took approximately five seconds before Kurt, Blaine, Sam, Santana, Sage and Rosemary burst into laughter.

"Hudson," sighed Santana, "Pollyanna is a literary character. Kinda like Little Orphan Annie. The sun will come out tomorrow, and all that shit. She always had a positive outlook - kinda like the hobbit here. You know, 'Oh, a pop quiz we didn't study for? That's okay, it's just another chance to show my teacher how much I know,'" she answered sarcastically.

Blaine dropped his head to stare at his feet. He, Sage and Santana shared biology class – and he had reacted like that to their last unannounced quiz.

Running his hand through his hair, Finn looked chagrined for a moment. "Oh."

Reaching back, Kurt patted Finn's lower leg. "It's okay, Finn. The only person Blaine is fucking is me," he answered quietly, discretely squeezing Blaine's hand with affection.

"Dammit, Kurt! Too much information," Finn groaned into his hands.

"You brought it up," Kurt said with a shrug.

Blaine nudged Kurt with his shoulder. "Not as well as I do," he announced, studiously concentrating the game while fighting the smile desperately trying to form on his face. He could feel the others around him slowly turn to look at him, so he kept his focus on the line of scrimmage.

"Nice one, Anderson," commented Santana with admiration in her voice. "I'm so proud to see our baby penguin growing up," she sniffed, wiping a fake tear away from her eye.

Tilting his head to the side, Blaine smiled at her. "Thank you, Santana."

Kurt leaned over so his lips were touching Blaine's ear as he whispered, "You bring things up real well, Hobbit. I can't wait for you to bring things up again. In fact, maybe during half-time, we could find some place…secluded and you could reiterate for me just how…well…you can bring things up."

In answer, Blaine brushed his thumb across Kurt's palm, drawing shivers from the senior. A play on the field drew his attention away from Kurt, and Blaine found himself groaning with most of the varsity players as the running back was tackled for a loss of seven yards. "Why isn't he seeing it?" he asked to the general group.

Finn nudged Blaine with his knee. "Seeing what?"

Blaine pointed to where the players were lining up for the third down. "Watch #57 on the other team. His heel picks up just slightly, before the ball is hiked. He's totally telegraphing which way he's gonna run." Watching the play with Finn, Blaine cheered when the wide receiver managed to catch the ball on the 34 yard line for a first down.

After two more plays, Finn smacked Blaine on the shoulder. "Dude! You so called it. I need to let Coach know. You wanna come down with me at halftime?"

Shaking his head, Blaine replied, "Nah. But if you happen to wander by the concession stands – I'd love an order of nachos and a water. I have some money-"

Finn waved away Blaine's offer of payment. "Don't even worry about it. Once I tell Coach, she'll wanna buy you dinner at Breadstix. You want some of those…jollypennies on your nachos?"

Blaine managed to contain his laughter at Finn's unintentional mispronunciation. "Jalapeños? Yes, please. I like spicy things." He shot Santana a look, "Walk away, Santana. I know it's difficult, but I have faith that you can."

"Way to break the stereotype, Hobbit." Santana wiped another imaginary tear away. "Growing up, I tell you. So proud," she choked out.

* * *

The Titans managed to score a touchdown but failed to convert on the two-point conversion, leaving them trailing 22- 28 with minutes left to play in the first half. As the players took the field for the kickoff, all of the Varsity Cheerios stood up and turned to face the same direction the football would be flying. Right arms held straight above their heads, their left arms were bent with a 90 degree angle. For their part, the varsity football players and the other student spectators all pounded their feet on the metal bleachers in an imitation drum roll.

The noise was deafening. Then, as the referees signaled for the time to start, the Cheerios began shouting. "Gooo! Kick off! Go! Go! Go! Goooo, Kick off!" Their arms moved in sharp boxing punches as they waited for the kicker to do his thing. Rosemary turned to Blaine, "Wanna?" she asked with a flirtatious smile.

"You sure?"

"I trust you, Hobbit," came her immediate reply.

Blaine shrugged out of his coat and Rosemary placed her hands on his wrists. "Five, Six, Seven, Eight," he yelled out, and then she was standing on his hands high above the student section. Instinctively, Sam moved to brace Blaine's wrists while Kurt tossed Sage up in the air next to her sister. The roar of the students grew even louder as they saw the Gartin twins fearlessly stunting, with little regard to the fact they were in the bleachers and not somewhere 'safe'.

"Figgins!" shouted Santana and Finn at the same time. Effortlessly, Kurt and Blaine tossed the girls up and caught them in their arms as everyone in the student section took their seats.

"You! You, Cheerios! You need to stop that….that, tossing girls up into the air. You cannot do that here! Coach Sylvester would be very disappointed to see you behaving in such a manner," Figgins lectured the group.

Scoffing, Santana managed to mutter rather loudly, "Have you _met_ Coach Sylvester? The woman who had us on six foot stilts? The woman who had us strap on bras with sparklers attached? The woman who tried to blow Brittany out of a cannon? Pretty sure she wouldn't even flinch at what we _allegedly_ just pulled. In fact, she'd probably be pissed off that we only put two girls up, not six."

"True dat." "Preach!" "I know that's right," came the calls of the other Cheerios.

Shaking his head, Figgins wandered down the bleachers to take up his post on the track staring up at the students, counting down the minutes until he could go home to his wife's delicious curry.

Kurt flopped back against his brother's legs and motioned to his neck. "Finn? Right there. _Shit_, I know better than to do that without stretching."

Finn reached his hands out, digging into Kurt's spasming shoulder and neck muscles. "Breathe deep, through your nose. This is gonna hurt like a bitch for a minute," Finn explained, before placing his elbow on a pressure point, leaning in and holding the pressure steady.

"Fuck!" came Kurt's strangled gasp.

"Breathe, bro."

Kurt's hands were clenched in tight fists, completely white, as he focused on inhaling and exhaling slowly. This wasn't the first time he'd had Finn help him through a muscle spasm – nor would it be the last. Then, Finn's elbow slipped slightly to the left and the pain was blessedly gone.

For his part, Finn could feel the muscle give again and backed off, bringing his hands up to lightly massage Kurt's shoulders.

Colin Stoddard, sitting six players down from Finn, took that moment to declare loudly, "That's so gay! Did you guys know our quarterback's gay?" Several of the juniors and sophomores on the team laughed – until the realization that _none_ of the senior players were amused began to sink in. The tension was immediate. And thick.

When Santana went to lunge at the junior player, Kurt blocked her path, shooting Stoddard his iciest glare. "You know, Colin, I don't know why you are so _fucking_ fascinated with my sex life."

"I'm not," snapped the junior who stood to face Kurt.

"**Bullshit**!" Kurt pushed Blaine back down when he started to rise. "Why the _fuck_ would you say what you just did about Finn, if you aren't _dying_ to know? Because if you want to know what being gay is like, Colin, then **just** **ask**. But the snide comments, the locker slams, the pee balloons, the slushies, the bullying…that _bullshit_ behavior has **got** to stop. Because the only thing it does is prove to everyone here, that you're a fucking Lima loser who is desperate to build himself up by tearing down someone he perceives as weaker than him. _But I'm not weak_, Colin. And the next time you piss me off because of something you say to me, or to one of my friends, or my brother – I'm fucking coming for you. And I guarantee, you'll never be the same."

Battling to keep his emotions in check, Kurt was vaguely aware that the majority of the student section had burst into spontaneous cheers at the end of his diatribe, which resulted in Colin and three of his buddies leaving the stands just as the horn signaling the end of the first half sounded. He allowed Santana to wrap him in her arms, murmuring in his ear about how she loved him and was willing to go all "Lima Heights" on Stoddard anytime Kurt wanted.

Blaine looked on, completely unsure of what to do. He felt someone slip a hand under his elbow and turned to see Sam, motioning with his head. "Come on, Hobbit. Let's get some food."

"But-" Blaine looked back over his shoulder at Kurt, worried.

Finn slung his arm around Blaine, the bleachers making their height difference even more disparate. "Dude," he said quietly. "Kurt needs you. Don't think he doesn't. He's just…trying to protect you. From that kind of bullshit."

* * *

Once they'd made their way down the stairs, Finn used his size to blaze a trail through the mass of students until they'd made it to the area where the concession stands and bathrooms were located. "The bathrooms? They're on the other side of the field house, dude. Go. Then you and Sam can take the food up while Puck and I go talk to Coach." Finn easily found the end of the food line, given he stood a head taller than most of the other people around.

A few minutes later, Blaine stood across from the entrance to the men's restroom, waiting for Sam to finish washing his hands. He pulled out his phone to send Kurt the message he couldn't say in person. At least not right now, anyway.

To: Sexy Cheer Captain

From: BDAnderson

**I lv u. Ur brave. Hot. Mine. **

Slipping the phone back into his pocket, Blaine raised his head up to see his worst nightmare approaching.

Taylor. Daniel. Johnny.

The last time Blaine had laid eyes on them, he'd been curled in a ball, screaming in pain, wishing for death to hurry up and come. He'd never expected to see them again. But sometimes Fate had other ideas.

Westerville High School's third baseman, senior Johnny Suragawa's attempt at bleaching his black hair had unfortunately resulted in it turning a brassy orange color which clashed violently with his skin tone and the maroon collared shirt he was wearing. "Look who it is," he drawled, hands deep in the pockets of his denim jacket. "Blaine Anderson. Long time, no see. How are things, _Blainers_? Making friends at your new school? Do you go here? Or are you with the visiting team? 'Cause we just might need to pay a _visit_ our old friend," he sneered, stalking slowly towards Blaine.

Stepping backwards in an attempt to keep distance between him and Johnny, Blaine stumbled but was kept from falling on his face by someone who gripped Blaine's arm tightly. Looking up, Blaine's stomach fell even further.

"Dave," whispered Blaine.

Dave Karofsky's eyes narrowed as he took in Blaine's ashen face, and his trembling fingers, tight around Dave's upper arm. With deliberate care, he moved to stand slightly in front of the sophomore, sizing up the potential threat the other boys posed. "Do you need something?" he asked coldly, crossing his arms.

The skinny blonde wearing a black concert t-shirt to some local indie band walked around his denim clad friend to step up to Dave. "What's it to you? Or should I ask," his smirk widened, "what's _he_ to you? This your new _fuck_ buddy, Blainers?" His eyes never left Karofsky's face.

"Why the hell would you care, Taylor?" Blaine's voice shook with fear.

"Because it's fucking _wrong_, Blainers. What you do…with other guys. It's _disgusting_. And as much as your _friend_ here wants to protect your pathetic ass, I'm not scared. I'm sorry you didn't learn your lesson the first time, _Blainers_. Tell me – when you look in the mirror and see the scar I gave you, do you think of me?" he goaded.

Unfortunately for Taylor, he was so focused on Dave Karofsky, that he never saw the fist that ended up shattering his jaw. Or knocking him unconscious. Which was probably for the best, given his shattered jaw.

Shaking out his hand, Sam stood over the body of the jackass who'd been tormenting Blaine. Grinning from the adrenalin rush, he shrugged at Blaine and Dave. "There was a spider. I swear. It was huge. I hate spiders."

Looking over at the other two teens, he took a step forward. "Take your douche bag friend's body and get the _fuck_ out of here. Because all you need to know, is I'm a _fucking_ cheerleader. And those guys over there," he gestured with his head towards Finn and Puck who were walking in their direction, "are on the football team. And if I reacted like this because Blaine is one of my friends and my teammate, you can only begin to imagine the destruction that will rain down when Finn finds out how you treated a member of his family. Puck, Dave and I will have to provide back up along with, well, just about everyone else here. Because that's how the Titans roll. We're a team. A family. And you don't **fuck** with **our** **family**."

Sam's loud speech had drawn the attention of quite a few other students who were beginning to ring the non-McKinley students. It didn't take more than 15 seconds for Daniel and Johnny to recognize that retreat was the best option. Dragging Taylor's limp body between them, they disappeared among the throngs of students.

"What the hell was that about, Evans?" demanded Finn.

Sam's leadership skills naturally came out during moments of stress or crisis. Putting off Finn's question for a moment, he asked Dave to get Blaine safely back to Kurt and Santana, and to ask Rosemary to get ice or an ice pack for his hand if she could. Dave agreed immediately, taking Blaine by the elbow and guiding him through the crowds. Sam watched them until Dave's red letterman jacket disappeared before turning back to Puck and Finn to fill them in.

* * *

Santana and Kurt, Rosemary and Sage sat on the hard metallic bleachers watching the JV squad and Letter Girls perform their halftime routines out on the football field. It was getting close to the time when they'd be holding tryouts for the competition squad – and evaluating everyone's performance both at practice and during games helped make sure the Cheerios had the absolute best 26 members traveling to Florida.

When the Letter Girls finished their routine, their ending pose had them spelling out Kynlie McTistan.

"**Kynlie McTistan**?" Yelled Santana, standing up and gesturing with her arms. "What is _wrong_ with you people?"

"Hot mess," was Kurt's response to the Letter Girls performance. "I don't even know where to start," he sighed.

Sage nudged him with her elbow. "Uniformity grade: F. Seven girls have a hair bow, three girls have no bow, five girls have their bow on backwards. Dance grade: F. I counted four girls who were ahead of the beat, two girls who were at least a half count behind – and that doesn't include the red head who watched the girl next to her the entire time to know what to do. Oh, and an Epic Fail for rep'ing Kynlie McTistan – whoever the _fuck_ that is."

Leaning back against Kurt's legs, Rosemary observed, "Well, at least Quinn and the JV squad will look that much better." Watching the milling students as the JV Cheerio squad moved into their starting positions, Rosemary spotted Dave Karofsky guiding Blaine up the stairs to their small group. She quickly stood up and walked to the end of the bleachers to meet them.

"What happened?" she asked, taking in Blaine's lack of color and the fact that Dave was almost holding him up. "Where's Sam and Finn?"

"Sam asked me to bring him to you guys. Can we…can we just get him to Kurt? I'll tell you everything I saw, I promise." Dave looked at Rosemary earnestly.

Nodding, Rosemary moved Blaine in front of her, guiding him down the bleachers until he reached her sister, where she gently pushed him to sit. Dave followed, one row above so he was sitting next to Kurt.

"Rose? Sam asked me to ask you to get him an ice pack. Or some ice. He may, or may not have broken his hand punching the douche bag who was harassing Blaine." Dave started with the easiest part of the story.

Immediately, Sage stood up. "I've got this. Stay with Blaine," she told her sister, hopping down the bleachers to find the athletic trainer.

Rose wrapped an arm around Blaine, pulling him into her embrace. "What the hell happened, Dave?" she asked, her tone demanding an immediate answer.

Kurt reached out to run his fingers through Blaine's curls, letting him know he was there.

Before Dave could start, Blaine pulled back from Rosemary. "The assholes who attacked me last year…were here. They started talking about how they needed to come visit me again. Because I hadn't learned my lesson." His voice tight, Blaine didn't look anywhere but at Rosemary.

"_Hobbit_," came Kurt's anguished whisper. Both Santana and Dave moved closer to him in support.

"Dave came over and they said some really rude things…about him. About me. Sam must have come out of the bathroom about that time, because all I saw was a fist come out of nowhere and slam into Taylor's jaw." Blaine hesitated momentarily. "It's broken for sure. I heard the crack. I…I know _that_ sound." Taking a shuddering breath, he allowed Rosemary to pull him back into a hug.

A mixture of emotions crossing his face and lips pressed tightly together, Kurt looked over at Dave. "Thank you. Thank you for being there for him," his voice cracked as he forced the words out.

Dave reached over to squeeze Kurt's wrist. "It's the least I could do…after everything you've done for me. Sam gave a big speech about how no one messes with the Titans because we're family and we stick together. I'd like to think that I would have stood up for Blaine because of that…that it's not just because I know he's…_important_ to you." Shrugging, Dave stood up, squeezing Kurt's shoulder once before making his way down the bleachers.

"Dave!" Blaine stood and stared, not knowing what he wanted to say, but feeling like he needed to say something.

Offering a shy smile, Dave shook his head. "You're welcome. No one deserves to be treated like that, Anderson. Don't let them win," he tapped the side if his head with a finger. "Especially not here." He made his way down the stairs, passing Sam and Finn who were finally on their way back up.

With the second half of the football game about to start, everyone stood up to cheer the entrance of the JV players, making it that much easier for Sam and Finn and the others to rearrange themselves around Blaine. Kurt sat behind his boyfriend, pulling him back against his chest, knowing that word of his confrontation with Colin and Sam's confrontation with Blaine's attackers, would have spread throughout the student body. No one was going to so much as look at them cross-eyed at this point.

Kurt allowed his head to rest on Santana's shoulder. "We missed Quinn's routine," he commented quietly, needing some normalcy. Finn held two cans of Diet Coke in front of him, so Kurt passed one to Santana and cracked open the second for himself taking a long sip.

"Priorities, Porcelain. I'm sure it was fine," she answered quietly leaning forward enough to run her nails through the hair at the nape of Blaine's neck. "Hobbit?" She waited patiently until Blaine turned his head to look at her. "Just say the word, and we'll all go home. Don't even stress, Anderson."

Biting his lip, Blaine took a moment to consider her offer. "No. No, Santana…if we leave early…they win. And I'm not giving them that power over me. No, we stay." Twisting back around to face the game, Blaine leaned back heavily against Kurt.

Sage returned with an ice pack a few plays in to the third quarter, demanding that the students in her way stand up so she could pass. "Christ! Were you raised in a barn. Stand up and let a lady pass. We're not a hockey game; there's no '_Wait for the whistle'_ etiquette to follow," she groused while stepping over feet and legs. When she reached Sam, she motioned for him to stand.

"I went and got your ice pack, White Chocolate. Go sit next to my sister and let her tend your battle wounds. I need me some Hobbit lovin'." Sage grinned as she tossed the ice pack to Rosemary, pleased at the deep rose blush that crossed her sister's face. Settling in next to Blaine, she took his arm and snuggled up as close as she could.

"Sage?" Blaine's lips brushed her forehead when he turned it to speak to her. "You know that I…I'm into guys, right?

She snorted into his ear. "Oh, baby boy. You're hysterical. You've got 'Property of Kurt Hummel' tattooed across your ass." Lifting her head off of his shoulder she looked into his eyes. "You're hot as hell, Anderson. You're funny. You're smart. We could talk sports all night long. You're like perfect…except one of us would need to switch genders. And I don't think you could rock your sexy self as a girl." Snuggling back into Blaine's shoulder, Sage groaned with the Titan linebacker fumbled the ball.

"So…" Blaine replayed their conversation through his mind, trying to figure out of Sage just revealed what he thought she had.

"Yes. I am," she responded to his unasked question. "Dude, I read minds. It's a twin thing. We freak our family out all the time because we don't even need to use words," she explained blithely. Kissing the area just above his ear, she added, "Just remember, Hobbit, we're everywhere. And we've got your back."

Kissing her forehead chastely, Blaine whispered, "Thanks, Sage."

"Anytime, Hobbit. Anytime."

* * *

Sam didn't say anything when Rosemary took his swollen hand and started deliberately tapping on various areas. When nothing she did caused Sam to wince, she declared it bruised but not broken. "Our brother boxes," she explained without really going further. Placing his hand on her knee, she covered it with the ice pack, glancing at her phone to mark the time. "Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off. Repeat three times. When we get out to our car, I have ibuprofen. You're gonna take two, every four hours for the swelling for 24 hours. If you need something for the pain, you'll take acetaminophen off set from the ibuprofen."

Using his undamaged hand, Sam tucked her dark honey blonde hair behind her ear. "Where'd you get your nursing degree, Ro?"

Snickering, she glanced at Sam. "Seriously, Evans? Sage and I have eight brothers and sisters. Six of whom are younger than us. All I do is patch them back up again. How long have we known each other?" she teased.

"Wow!" Sam ran his fingers through his hair in amazement. "You have _nine_ brothers and sisters?"

"Four brothers, five sisters."

"What does your dad do?" blurted Sam. Realizing how personal that question was, he immediately started to backpedal. "I'm sorry, Rosemary. Don't answer that."

She smiled shyly at Sam. "It's okay. It's not like we hide it. You ever play miniature golf?"

"Yeah. All the time when I was little."

"We own the Three Dragons Mini-putts. All three of them, including the one with the water slides."

Sam stared at her incredulously. "How did I not know this?"

Shrugging, Rosemary's answer was interrupted by Finn dangling a tray of nachos in front of them. "Blaine's not hungry. You want his nachos? I also have Sam's Sprite in my pocket still."

"Thanks, Finn," Rose answered, taking the nachos and soda from Finn.

Because there were so many students packed into the stands, Sam didn't have anywhere to put his Sprite down, which meant he couldn't help himself to the cheesy goodness Rose was holding. "Hey," he called quietly, "help a hungry guy out?" he asked, giving Rose a small pout and looking pointedly down at his injured hand.

Sighing, Rose took a chip from the tray, feeding Sam the nacho. "You owe me, Evans," she said lightheartedly, using her thumb to wipe away the cheese sauce left on the corner of his mouth.

"Definitely, Ms. Gartin. What would you say to my taking you out after the game tomorrow night for some sustenance? I mean, my go-to place for a first date has always been miniature golf…but clearly that's not gonna impress you," he teased. "I'll have to up my ante."

Rose stared down at the nachos in her lap for a long time. She could feel Sam playing with her hair as she considered her words carefully. Finally she let herself look at his handsome face again. "If you're serious about taking me out…on a date…" she pressed her lips together tightly, then took a deep breath. "My answer is yes. And if you just wanted to go hang out as friends...my answer is still yes. Either way, Sam, it doesn't matter where we end up. Besides, I know someone who can get us a deeply discounted rate for miniature golfing," she added with a wink.

Sam smiled brightly. Leaning over, he kissed her cheek then whispered in her ear. "It's definitely a date, Rosemary. And I'm definitely paying. And I know you're not the type of girl who's impressed by money, which works out really great, because I don't have much – but…I just think a guy should pay for the first date. I mean, I wouldn't want to tell our kids that 'Daddy let Mama pay for our first date – which is why Auntie Sage always refers to him as Cheap Bastard.'"

Their laughter blended in with the cacophony of noises that filled the early evening air.


	12. No Ritual Animal Sacrifices of Any Kind

**_A/N: _**_Each time I add a chapter to any of my stories, I am amazed to see people all over the world reading, favoriting, following and reviewing something I wrote. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for that. (Waves at the 131 people currently following this story. Miss me? I missed you.) It was a blessed day when I discovered the pool where I am spending an inordinate amount of time this summer - has wireless. What possible danger could there be with bringing my laptop near chlorinated water?__  
_

**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is rated M for adult language and sexual situations. BillyMonroe - this is your official Iced Caramel Macchiato warning. Sexy times to commence asap!_

**_Disclaimer:_**_I do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed. (Maybe a little tired, worn out...but unharmed)_

* * *

**Chapter 12: No Ritual Animal Sacrifices of Any Kind**

"G! O! Let me hear you say 'Go!'" called the Titan cheerleaders.

"**GO**!" shouted the fans in the stands.

"That's right, tonight. Let me hear you say, 'Fight!'"

"**FIGHT**!"

"W! I! N! Let me hear you say 'Win!'"

"**WIN**!"

"Together, again!"

"**GO**, **FIGHT**, **WIN**!" Everyone yelled together. It was midway through the fourth quarter, and the JV squad from McKinley had come back with a vengeance – scoring three unanswered touchdowns during the third quarter. At that point the coach began making sure that all the players saw some playing time, slowing the game down as the habitual benchwarmers tried to remember the plays they were being asked to run.

Finn nudged Kurt with his shoulder. "Dude!"

"Don't call me dude, Finn," grumbled Kurt with a roll of his eyes. Their friends snickered at the common point of discussion between the pair.

"Whatever, Kurt," Finn said with a grin. "Let's take off. I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry, Finn," replied Kurt. Arms still wrapped around Blaine, Kurt hugged him a bit tighter as he murmured quietly in Blaine's ear, "You up for going home, Hobbit? As scintillating as this football game is, the sooner we leave, the sooner we can pick up your grandfather and have dinner." He felt his arms rise up and fall as Blaine took a deep breath.

"I mean, if everyone else wants to go…then that's fine with me," Blaine answered quietly, eyes still watching the game and the JV cheerleaders.

That was all it took. Almost as one, the Varsity stunt squad and Cheerios rose up and filed out of the football stadium into the parking lot, waving at their friends still on the track and in the stands. Kurt absolutely refused to let go of Blaine's hand, as they walked, flanked by Finn and Sam. What he really wanted to do was to curl himself around his boyfriend holding him and kissing him until all the bad memories faded into nothingness. Clothing would be optional if he had his way.

Unfortunately that would have to wait. At least until they got home. His plans of snuggling with Blaine in the back seat during the drive home were thwarted once Sam announced that he was catching a ride with Rosemary and Sage. And while Kurt didn't mind occasionally sharing his car with Sam, there was no way he'd willingly hand the keys over to Finn.

For his part, Finn had tried to convince Blaine to ride in the front with Kurt, but the sophomore had politely refused, insisting he would be fine in the back. Once they all climbed in, Blaine pressed his cheek up against the glass, closing his eyes and letting the motion of the SUV rock him to sleep.

He didn't stir when Kurt stopped to let Finn out at their house, nor did he stir when Kurt pulled up to Blaine's house and cut off the engine. As quietly as he could, Kurt exited the driver's seat and climbed into the back with Blaine. "Hey, Sunshine," he murmured, brushing Blaine's curls with his fingers. "It's time to wake up."

Blaine rubbed his eyes sleepily with his hand, stretching slightly before looking over at Kurt. "What time is it?" he asked, still not quite fully awake.

Glancing at the clock on the dash, Kurt answered, "6:36."

"Dinner's still at 7?"

"Yeah, why?" asked Kurt.

Blaine fumbled with the buttons on his wool coat before pulling it off and tossing it in the front passenger seat. Looking up at Kurt through heavy eyelids, his eyes were pure molten sex. "Take your jacket off, Kurt," he growled lowly. "Your shirt too." He made quick work of his own shirt, tossing that in the front seat with his jacket before toeing off his shoes.

"Blaine?"

"Lay down."

"Babe?"

"Lay down, Kurt." Blaine's voice was insanely low and raspy. Once Kurt had scooted down across the back seat, Blaine pressed their bodies together, groaning at the contact. Biting lightly at the juncture of Kurt's jaw and neck, Blaine reveled in the whimpers he drew from his boyfriend. "I need this, Kurt. Please?" he whispered against Kurt's ear.

Wrapping his legs around Blaine's waist, Kurt sent a silent prayer to whomever or whatever might be listening giving thanks that darkness had fallen during their drive home. He ran his hands over the smooth plane of Blaine's back before attaching his lips to Blaine's collar bone and sucking lightly.

"Fuck, Kurt. Feels so good. You always make me feel good," Blaine started to choke up as the emotions of the evening caught up to him. Wiping away the tears, Blaine sat up on his knees. "I'm sorry," he whispered miserably.

Head shaking, Kurt sat up and cupped Blaine's face. "You have nothing to apologize for, baby. Talk to me." He wiped way the remaining tears with his thumbs.

Blaine dropped his eyes down, studying the pattern on Kurt's belt. "They made me feel…so scared. So powerless. I fucking hate feeling like that," he admitted angrily.

"Mmmm…I think I remember you mentioning that to me once before. Vague memories of a shower and your impossibly hard cock rubbing against my ass." Kurt caught Blaine's lips in a wet kiss as he ran his hands across Blaine's shoulders and then down to his narrow waist. "So you wanted to feel a bit more in control…just now? A bit more…in charge?" Dropping his hands to Blaine's hips, Kurt dug his fingers into the muscles just below Blaine's ass.

Biting his lower lip, Blaine's nod was barely perceptible. Hesitantly he moved his hands to Kurt's belt buckle and began to undo it. Kurt's hands on his stopped his actions.

"Look at me, Hobbit," he whispered, waiting for Blaine to meet his gaze. "Whatever you need, it's yours…_I'm_ yours. Tell me. Tell me what you need." Kurt could feel the shift in Blaine's emotional state just before the sophomore grabbed his wrists tight.

"_You_ need to stop telling me what to do, Kurt. You'll take _what_ I give you and you'll fucking be happy with whatever that is, _understand_?" His eyes blazed with a hunger and passion Kurt hadn't really seen before.

"Yes, babe."

Pressing a firm hand in the center of Kurt's chest, Blaine forced him to resume his original position. Bending over his chest, Blaine brushed his tongue across Kurt's nipple playfully before pulling it into his mouth and suckling on it, feeling himself becoming harder as he soaked in the moans and whimpers that Kurt didn't try to contain. Not moving his mouth, he managed to feel his way down to Kurt's belt buckle, undoing it from memory. He palmed Kurt's erection slowly, in time to the flicks of his tongue.

"Oh, _fuck_…_Blaine_, please…_please_, honey," babbled Kurt as he brought his hands up to Blaine's hair, tugging gently.

Releasing Kurt, Blaine sat back again, wagging a finger in front of Kurt. "Uh uh. Was I _unclear_, babe? You take what I give…and that wasn't taking it baby." He smirked down at his boyfriend. "We've got maybe 10 minutes left. Pull your pants down. You're gonna put on a show. For me."

Blaine moved so he was sitting against the passenger side door, one knee bent and against the seat one leg draped down, exposing the tight bulge of his own swollen cock. With practiced moves, Blaine released his cock, pulling his own pants down enough to make things more comfortable. "_Touch yourself_, Kurt. Close your eyes, and wrap your fingers around your cock, for me." He waited until Kurt had done as he requested, before continuing.

"Last night, after we said goodnight, I touched myself. Thinking of you," Blaine rasped. "Did _you_ do that, Kurt? Touch yourself?" Seeing Kurt's frantic nod, Blaine chuckled. "_Show me_. Show me how you touched yourself._ Mmmm_…that's so _hot_, Kurt. You're so _hard_ for me. You were hard for me too, last night, in my fantasy. We were in the locker room shower. Only this time, _I_ was washing _you_. Your cock. You couldn't get enough, Kurt. You kept _begging_ me for more. So…while one hand was wrapped tight around your cock, I slipped the other hand down your crack."

"_Blaaaiine_," Kurt whined, thrusting up into his fist more quickly.

"Yeah, Kurt. That's exactly how you sounded. Moaning my name. I asked you if you wanted me to stretch you…to finger you."

"Yes, _please_," blurted Kurt, caught up in the mental fantasy Blaine was painting for him.

Blaine had shut his own eyes, enjoying the feeling of his own hand on his cock. "_Uh huh_. That's what you said in my dream. '_Yes, please, Blaine, please fuck me with your fingers_.'" Concentrating on Kurt's erratic breathing, Blaine warned, "Tell me when you're close, Kurt. Don't you come without my say so. Or you're not getting any sexy times until after Homecoming."

"_**Fuck**_!" keened Kurt.

Laughing Blaine responded, "I'm gonna assume that means you understood what I meant. Don't slow down, baby. We're on the clock and I'm not done telling you my fantasy…would you _like_ to hear the rest?" He purred.

"_Mmm…uh huh_. Yes, please. _Please_ tell me, Hobbit." Kurt opened his eyes long enough to see the debauched picture in front of him before shutting them tightly. Fuck. If he continued to watch Blaine, he wouldn't make it three more seconds.

"So there we are – showering in the locker room. You, bent over the pony wall, ass sticking up into the air. Me, behind you, three fingers in your tight, hot heat, making you beg for more. You pumping into my hand and then back on my fingers, enjoying the feeling of being well fucked by your boyfriend. Can you see that, Kurt? Can you feel that?" Blaine's voice dropped even lower as he questioned Kurt.

Incapable of words at this point, Kurt just nodded.

Blaine opened his eyes and let go of himself, sliding closer to Kurt, stilling his hand. "Look at me, babe." Kurt continued to thrust into the air, despite the lack of friction, causing Blaine to smile. When he finally opened his eyes, Blaine leaned in to kiss him chastely before pulling away. "That's about the time Karofsky walks in on us. But we're_ not stopping, are we_?" he teased, kissing Kurt again, this time thrusting his tongue in the senior's mouth when he moaned in pleasure.

Twisting away, Blaine deliberately lowered himself to his knees in front of Kurt. "We _can't_ stop now, we're too close. And you keep _begging_ for more. And I want him to know…_know_ you're **mine**. Always gonna be mine…and he's never gonna have you. So I pull my fingers out…and." Blaine hesitated for the first time in several minutes.

Kurt brought his fingers up to caress Blaine's face. "Please keep going, babe. Tell me what you do to me. Please tell me…you fuck me. You do, don't you? You fuck me in front of him, because I'm yours."

Dropping his head to Kurt's lap, Blaine ran his tongue across the dusky rose head of his cock. "_Yes, Kurt_," he answered quietly. "I stand behind you and line myself up, and slowly, oh so _fucking_ slowly, sink into you. You're so…tight and hot and it's just…_fuck_…amazing. And you're _so_ needy and you keep moaning for it. You want it _harder_ and _faster_ and deeper and…_fuck_, babe. He just stands there, rubbing himself, 'cause he'll never have you like I have you."

"_Never_. Only you," murmured Kurt, thrusting up so his cock brushed Blaine's lips.

Glancing up, Blaine locked eyes with Kurt. "Come for me, baby. Show me I'm the one who makes you fall apart." With that Blaine wrapped his lips around Kurt's cock, bobbing his head while swallowing firmly.

It took maybe ten seconds before Kurt was spilling down Blaine's throat, his guttural cries filling the car. For a few moments he let Blaine rest his head on his lap, enjoying the feeling of Blaine's soft hair against his well-loved cock, but then it was time to return the favor. Blaine was only too happy to oblige.

Sated at last, Kurt glanced at the clock. 6:53. "If we run in and grab your grandfather now, maybe no one will suspect we had amazing sexy times in my car while picking him up," he said hopefully.

Laughing, Blaine shook his head. "Not if your dad sees your hair. _Fuck_, Kurt, I hope your cheer bag is in the car. You need to fix that, asap. Just…go use my bathroom. I'll get my grandfather ready. And roll down your car windows in the meantime. It smells like sex in here."

"It does, doesn't it," grinned Kurt, shrugging back into his clothes while Blaine did the same.

Just as Kurt placed his hand on the door handle, Blaine stopped him. "Kurt? Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me, Hobbit. Putting a smile on your boyfriend's face…it kinda comes with the title '_boyfriend_'," answered Kurt honestly.

"Well, then, I love that you're my boyfriend."

Kurt reached over and tapped Blaine's nose. "I love you too, Hobbit. Go get your grandfather, so you can officially meet my dad. With clothes on."

Blaine sighed dramatically. "_God_, what is with these Hummel men and their clothing demands?"

"You love it, and you know it," sassed Kurt.

"I love you, and you know it," Blaine smiled back.

"I do. Come on, time's a-wastin'"

With that, both boys tumbled out of the car and went to fetch Mr. Ladd.

* * *

"**_Where_ **have you been?"

Taking in the scene in front of him, Blaine tried to hide his shock. His grandfather had prepared dinner – roasted brisket and buttered noodles from the look of things. The kitchen table had been set for four. And it was clear that his grandfather had already eaten.

Biting his lower lip, Blaine met his grandfather's disappointed gaze. "At the football game, Papa."

Tossing his cloth napkin down into his plate, Mr. Ladd stood up and pointed a finger at Blaine. Angrily, he shouted, "**_What_ **football game? It's not Friday. I thought we had an agreement that you'd let me know when you were going to be out late. _**What** _is with this family? I understand that _your mother_ has to work to support the two of you – but that doesn't explain why neither one of you has to common decency to pick up a phone when I call you."

"We _do_ have that agreement, Papa. I wrote the football game on our calendar, so you would know where I was." Blaine gestured towards the large monthly calendar that hung on the wall next to the doorway. "I'm _sorry_ you were worried. I didn't see any missed calls on my phone, Papa. Otherwise, I would have called you right back."

Knowing that his grandfather's concern over Blaine's whereabouts was what most likely triggered this episode, Blaine worked at remaining calm and reassuring. His mother had reminded him multiple times that _this_ wasn't really his grandfather talking – but the disease.

"_**Blaine Anderson**_! There is no reason to tell me lies about where you were. I looked at that calendar and there was nothing about a football game. And where is your mother, anyway? Her phone just rings and rings and rings. I was nice enough to agree to let the two of you move in here when your deadbeat father ran off with that harlot secretary, the very least she could do is answer her father's phone calls."

It hurt more than he'd ever admit to hear his grandfather talk about his dad that way. Granted, Blaine didn't hold the man in highest regards after he moved away, but still, the man _was_ his father, and to have his grandfather say something like that – it hurt. When his grandfather made to start clearing the table, when Blaine moved over to him, stilling his hands. "I'll get this, Papa. Mom's flying right now."

"Flying?" his grandfather sounded perplexed.

"Yes, she's flying and she's coming home tomorrow night, Friday night. She'll be home late. I'll be at the football game cheering, and then I'm spending the night with Kurt and Sam and Finn. We talked about this a couple times this week. Does any of this sound familiar?" He carried the used dishes to the sink so he could wash them.

"Mr. Ladd?"

Spinning around, Blaine found Kurt standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking much more put together. Making eye-contact with his boyfriend, Blaine shook his head negligibly – the only warning he felt he could give at the moment.

"Who's your friend?" asked Mr. Ladd in a huff. "If I'd _known_ you were bringing someone home for dinner I would have made extra."

"Papa? This is my good friend, Kurt. Kurt Hummel. He's on the cheerleading squad with me." Blaine walked over and caught Kurt's elbow, guiding him over to his grandfather.

"Hello." Kurt smiled and held out his hand as if this was the first time he'd met Mr. Ladd.

After they had shaken hands, Blaine caught Kurt's hand and intertwined their fingers together. "Papa…Do you remember me asking if you would come to dinner with me at the Hummels? That I would come pick you up after the junior varsity football game and we'd go over there to eat. Because Kurt's dad wants to meet me. Because –"

Mr. Ladd sat down heavily on the chair. "Kurt. Kurt's your fellow. The one Mabel and I saw sneaking out of your bedroom window last week. I remember that."

Squeezing Kurt's hand, Blaine was grateful to have part of his grandfather's memory return. "We were going to go over to their house to eat tonight. Clearly you forgot, and that's fine. But, do you … do you still want to go? Maybe have some dessert?" he asked hopefully.

Mr. Ladd rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture Kurt had seen many times from Blaine. "I'm sorry, Blaine. I didn't remember we had plans. I feel terrible."

Blaine reached out his other hand and placed it on his grandfather's shoulder in comfort. "It's okay, Papa. Really. I know there'll be other times we can all get together. Tell me, what do you want right now? Do you want me to stay here with you or do you want to go with me?"

Mr. Ladd looked every bit his age as he sat at the kitchen table. "I think I'm going to go to bed early. Maybe you could make me some tea?" He stood carefully, clapping Kurt on the arm as he shuffled past. "And you should absolutely go to your fellow's house, Blaine. Never pass up a chance to make a good impression. Make sure you bring something with you as a thank you. Maybe some of our blackberry jam. Or the tomato jam."

Reaching the doorway, Mr. Ladd turned back to look at the boys. "Or both. If you think he's really worth it," he smirked, although the fatigue was clear on his face. Winking, he disappeared down the hallway.

Kurt tugged on Blaine's hand until he could fold the shorter boy into his embrace. Holding him close, he waited for Blaine to lose it, but he never did.

Eventually, Blaine pulled away and went to the cupboard to pull down the tea pot and mug. It was the rattling of the tea pot's lid that drew attention to the fact that Blaine's hands were shaking. Coming up behind Blaine and pressing close, Kurt whispered, "I've got this, Hobbit." Gently removing the tea pot from Blaine's hands, Kurt went about making the tea, keeping a careful eye on Blaine who was removing the remnants of dinner from the table.

"Blaine? Who was the fourth place setting for?" he asked quietly.

Blaine rinsed his hands to remove the soap and reached for a towel before looking up at Kurt. "My grandmother. It's how we know when things are … _bad_. He forgets she's gone." Hanging the towel on a cabinet knob, he leaned against the sink. "He forgets a lot of things. Clearly you heard. But that's the worst. When he realizes again that he's lost her."

"I'm sorry, Hobbit," Kurt offered.

Blaine's lips pulled up in a smile that he didn't really feel. "They met during World War II. Some neighbor was having a party with the local high school girls to socialize with the GIs. Papa met my grandmother and six weeks later they were married. Can you imagine?" he asked incredulously.

Tilting his head to the side, Kurt pursed his lips. "If your grandmother was anywhere near as attractive and intelligent and humorous and sexy as you – then yeah, I can imagine your grandfather being just as swept off his feet as I am," he answered honestly.

Blaine could feel his cheeks flushing. "48 hours after getting married, my grandfather had to ship out. They didn't see each other for a year. _A year_, Kurt. I couldn't fathom it before – and now? Now I really don't know how they did it. But they did. They wrote a ton of letters back and forth to each other."

"You still have the letters?"

Placing the tea pot and mug on a tray, Blaine got ready to take the tea in to his grandfather. "Yeah. My grandmother gave them to me before," his voice caught. "Before she passed. She knew that I knew how much the letters meant to her. Some quiet rainy day, when all we want to do his snuggle – remind me. I'll pull them out and we can read them together." With that, Blaine picked up the tray and took it to his grandfather.

Returning only a moment later, he shook his head. "He's already asleep."

Kurt stepped up and cupped Blaine's cheek, staring into his eyes. "You, sir, are a romantic sap," he teased quietly before brushing his lips against Blaine's.

Sighing at the touch, Blaine closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment to enjoy his boyfriend. "You love it, Hummel," he rumbled back, arms snaking around Kurt's shoulders.

Rubbing their noses together, Kurt answered, "I love you. You're so strong."

"Been admiring my biceps again, have you?" Blaine grinned, a glint in his eye.

"I was _being_ serious."

Kissing Kurt slowly, Blaine finally pulled away enough to acknowledge, "I know. I _know_ what you meant and _why_ you said it and I love you all the more for it."

"Good," Kurt replied, nuzzling Blaine's neck. "And yes, I admire every bit of your body every chance I get."

"We're gonna be late for dinner, Kurt."

"Yes. We are."

* * *

"Mmmm. That smells _so_ good, Mrs. Hummel," groaned Blaine as he pulled up a chair at the kitchen table. Kurt had gestured Blaine into the seat next to him, across from Finn and an empty plate, presumably for Sam. On Blaine's right was Finn's mom, who had insisted that Blaine call her Carole, and he insisted right back that he would try. On the far side of Kurt sat his father who'd taken Blaine's coat and shook his hand warmly, welcoming him to dinner.

It was a bit surreal – but after the day he'd had, Blaine decided he'd just go with it.

Smiling warmly, Carole began by passing the Caesar salad. "Well, I made the salad and the garlic bread, Blaine, so I will take credit for that. But the lasagna is Kurt's creation. I just made sure to put it in the oven for as long as he directed." As soon as everyone had helped themselves to as much salad as they wanted, Carole began to dish out the lasagna as they passed their plates down to her. Stomach growling noisily, Blaine placed one piece of garlic bread on his plate then, glancing up at Finn for a moment, took one more piece.

Chuckling softly, Kurt leaned towards him. "Saw that. Smart move."

Blaine moved his hand from his lap to Kurt's knee, squeezing softly. "If this tastes as good as it looks and smells, I'll battle Finn for the last piece." Lifting the first bite to his lips, Blaine's eyes closed as he savored the mixture of cheesy goodness and rich tomato sauce. By the time he'd finished his third bite, Finn was having his mother dish him out a second piece.

"You know, Finn, food actually tastes better if you slow down enough to actually taste it," commented Kurt, looking pointedly at Finn.

"Dude, it's just so good," Finn offered shyly, glancing over at Blaine.

"Yes, it is, Finn," commented Burt. "And you'll just have to limit yourself to three pieces tonight. At least until our guest has finished his first."

Blaine smiled at Finn as he took another bite, chewing slowly. "Finn's right, Kurt. This is amazing. Like, it could compete with my grandmother's lasagna – and that's not praise I just give out on a whim."

Blushing at Blaine's compliment, Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine on the cheek before going back to his meal.

"So, Blaine," began Carole, "tell us about your family."

Taking a sip of his water, Blaine gazed at his plate considering his words. "I live with my mom and grandfather. I have an older brother, Cooper. He lives in L.A and is trying to make it as an actor. Mom's a flight attendant. She works out of Columbus mostly, doing short and mid-haul flights. My dad is a pilot. He lives outside of Seattle, with his wife and my two half-brothers."

"That must be hard on you," offered Burt sympathetically.

"What? Not seeing my dad?" Blaine glanced over at Burt to confirm that's what he meant. Seeing an affirmative nod, Blaine shook his head. "Not anymore. Not really. I mean…he's my dad, and I'll always love him as my dad. But he made a choice five years ago to move away." Putting his fork down for a moment, Blaine turned slightly in his seat so he could look at Burt more directly.

"Dad's a pilot. Mom's a flight attendant. Either one of them could get me on a flight to Seattle for less than $50. Perks of the job. It was hard five years ago when I asked to fly out to see him and he told me I couldn't come because she was pregnant. It was hard four years ago when I asked to come out and he said they needed time to bond as a family. It was hard three years ago when I cried on the phone, begging him to come see me, only to have him make promises he later broke when she turned up pregnant again."

Blaine swallowed hard, but refused to drop his gaze from Burt's. "About two years ago, I was attacked by three classmates after a school dance. My mom tells me my dad managed to fly out to see me then. I wouldn't know. I was in a coma, on life support. The doctors told him I had a less than 20% chance of surviving. I think, Mr. Hummel, it stopped being hard around the time I woke up with the people who love me most around my bed. He…he _wasn't_ one of them. I'm not saying he doesn't love me – I'd like to believe he does – in his own way. At this point, what bothers me the most is the idea that I have two brothers who I've never met. And I probably won't – unless they come to seek me out when they're older." Blaine picked up his fork and began eating again

"Dude, that…that _sucks_," said Finn who'd stopped eating while Blaine shared even more of his life story than he had when it had been the two of them and Sam.

Blaine offered a half-shrug. "I guess. My friend Nick, he gave me a magnet with a quote that says, 'If you can't change your fate, change your attitude'. I try to keep that in mind when things get start to get to me. If my dad hadn't left, if I hadn't been attacked, if Papa didn't have Alzheimer's and needed someone to look after him – then I wouldn't have transferred to McKinley. I wouldn't have met this extremely attractive senior who started flirting with me the moment we met. And I would be sitting here, with all of you, eating this delicious meal, trying not to embarrass myself in front of my boyfriend's father." He could feel his cheeks heat as he admitted that last part.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Burt said, taking another bite of his meal. "Your boyfriend's father kinda likes you, kid." Catching Blaine's surprised glance, he winked. "Especially when you're sitting up and fully clothed."

"Dad!" Kurt admonished, as Blaine's head dropped down.

"I'm _so_ sorry about that, Mr. Hummel," Blaine replied quietly before looking up. "I promise you won't catch me in bed with Kurt without clothes on, again."

"Excuse me?" Burt asked, raising an eyebrow. "What's this about me _catching_ the two of you? How about you just promise not_** to be**_ in bed with Kurt sans clothes, kid?"

Biting his lower lip, Blaine was trying to figure out a way of explaining how he didn't want to make a promise he knew he was going to break – probably tomorrow night, if he had his way, when he was saved by the bell.

Or in this case, the ringing of the house phone. It rang four times, paused, then another four times. About that time, Blaine's own pocket started buzzing, so he pulled out his cell phone to see Rosemary had sent him a text.

To: Hobbit

Fr: Rosie Posie

**If ur Porcelain's tell him 2 ansr phn**

Looking up, he told Kurt, "Rosemary says you need to answer the phone."

Burt got out of the chair and walked over to the phone on the kitchen counter. "Hello. Hummel residence. Burt Hummel speaking," he said in greeting. "Oh, hello Ross. How are you?"

Kurt wrapped his arm around the back of Blaine's chair. "That's Rose and Sage's dad," he whispered to Blaine.

Finn nudged Kurt's foot under the table, dropping his head towards Sam's empty spot. They had a silent conversation with their eyes before being interrupted by Burt's voice growing louder.

"No. No, Ross, they didn't bother to say anything. No, I appreciate it. I would have done the same thing. Thank you for looking after him. Carole and I will be down there as soon as we can. Let the hospital know, and Sam too. Thanks." Hanging up the phone, Burt stared down all three teens sitting at his table.

"I was _going_ to ask how the football game went, but given that Sam's in the hospital with a broken hand, I guess it will have to wait. Along with an explanation. And I _will_ get an explanation, boys." Burt scooped up his keys and wallet from the side table by the front door and reached for Carole's favorite jacket.

"Mr. Hummel? Please, it wasn't Sam's fault," Blaine said, standing up from his chair. "He was... standing up for me. The guys," he stopped to draw in a breath. "The guys who attacked me – they were at the game. I was waiting for Sam by the bathrooms and they saw me and started to threaten me. Kurt's friend Dave found me and told them to back off, but they … they said some really disgusting things. Sam overheard, and, well, he punched Taylor in the jaw. I think he broke it. And if I were a better person than I am, I'd say I was sorry. But I'm not sorry. Not sorry at all. Well, about Taylor's jaw."

Blaine moved closer to Burt has the older man shrugged into a flannel jacket and put his ball cap on his head. "I'll pay for Sam's medical bills, Mr. Hummel. It's _my_ fault he got hurt," he said quietly.

Burt placed his hands on Blaine's shoulders. "You are a good kid to make that offer, but you will not be paying for Sam's medical bills. It's not your fault at all, and I don't want to hear you say that again. These were the same boys who gave you that scar you have on your side?"

Seeing Blaine nod, Burt continued, "Well, then at some point, when you feel up to it, you can share with me how those punks are still walking around free. But right now Carole and I are going to go down to the hospital with Finn to see how Sam is doing and to confirm whether or not his hand is broken. You stay here with Kurt. And if you want to continue to be on our good side, maybe you two can do the dishes. And _not_ end up shirtless." The last bit he said quietly, so only Blaine could hear. When Blaine's mouth twitched up in a near smile, Burt pulled him in for a hug.

Looking over Blaine's shoulder, Burt stared at Kurt. "No bedroom. No bed. No showers. No groping over or under clothing. No kisses over two minutes."

"No ritual animal sacrifices of any kind," Kurt muttered softly, quoting a favorite line from a movie.

"Exactly. I know everyone's planning on coming here to crash tomorrow night after the game – but I will rescind my offer to host this sleepover if you break my trust, Kurt. Understood?" Burt allowed Blaine to pull away. "One last 'getting to know you' question, Blaine. Kurt's…well, Kurt doesn't really like sports."

Blaine couldn't contain his smile. "Football, ice hockey, baseball, NASCAR – in that order. I will also watch swimming and diving, gymnastics, and pro skateboarding and BMX vert competitions if I find them on television. My grandfather and I have four televisions set up in his den so we can watch four different games at once. You and Finn have got to come over soon so we can all watch together," he offered excitedly.

"Sounds like a plan," Burt said pulling open the front door. "But what about Kurt?" he asked.

"I'll make it up to him," Blaine said quickly, then blushing furiously, he added, "By helping him? With homework? Or something?"

Burt ruffled Blaine's hair affectionately. "_Or something_." Leaning past Blaine, Burt called to Kurt, "We'll call with any news."

Once the door had closed, Kurt used his arms and body to pin Blaine against the hard wood. "So it seems we have the house to ourselves, unexpectedly, but still. Any ideas of how to use this time?" he purred, leaning in to place a series of light kisses along the skin bared by his open collar.

Blaine allowed Kurt to continue for a few moments before finally pushing him away by his hips. "Not tonight, Kurt. Please? And not just because I think your dad actually likes me and I don't want to break his trust. But because-"

Kurt's lips met Blaine's in a soft, chaste kiss. "You don't owe me an explanation, baby. How about snuggling on the couch and a movie? You up for that much?" Tucking a lock of Blaine's hair behind his ear, Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes so he could see the sincerity there.

Hugging Kurt fiercely, Blaine managed to say, "Yeah. That sounds perfect."

"Let's go do those dishes, then."

* * *

Burt Hummel wasn't quite sure what he expected to find when he got home from the hospital – but Blaine and Kurt curled up on opposite sides of the couch, asleep, with the tail end of _Gone in 60 Seconds _playing on the television wouldn't have been in his first fifty guesses. Maybe not even his first thousand.

Placing his hand gently on Blaine's shoulder, he shook him until he woke with a startle. "Hey there, kiddo, it's fine. It's just me. You boys fell asleep. Shame, since this is the best part of the movie, in my opinion."

Sleepily rubbing his eyes, Blaine blinked at the television. "Nah, they've done all the really cool driving. I like that. And the cars."

"Knew there was a reason I liked you," Burt murmured, picking up the remote to turn off the movie and television. "Go grab your coat. I'll give you a ride home."

Standing unsteadily, Blaine shook his head. "'s okay, Mr. Hummel. I can walk."

"Go grab your coat so I can drive you home, Blaine," Burt turned Blaine towards the front door. "It's after eleven. There's no way on this earth that I'm letting you walk home at this time of night. Don't you know that Lima is a haven for vampires and werewolves?" he teased gently.

Spinning, Blaine lost his balance and stumbled into the wall. "_What_?"

Chuckling, Burt helped the boy steady himself. "Just seeing if you were listening. Come on, kiddo. Sam's okay, by the way. Didn't break any bones in his hand – just strained the hell out of it. He's not supposed to put any weight on in for ten days. Not that he'll listen – but you have my permission to remind him of that when he '_forgets_'."

Opening the front door, Burt guided Blaine towards his pick-up truck. "Carole and I will be at the game tomorrow. Looking forward to seeing what you all have come up with for your half-time routine," he said conversationally.

Blaine smiled, fighting off the sleep that was trying to overtake him again. "It's coming along pretty well. Well, at least I think so. You can let me know what you think." After the third time he missed bucking his seat belt, Burt took it from his hands and did it for him.

"You need to get some rest, kid."

"I know. I try."

Once he started the motor, Burt asked, "So why cheerleading?"

Leaning his head against the glass, Blaine snorted. "Too short to be quarterback. Mmmm, seriously? I started gymnastics when I was really little, because my mom's exercise class was at the same time. I'm good at it – because I'm short. Shorter. On the vertically challenged side." He smiled wider when he heard Burt's laugh.

"I've watched the cheerleading championships on ESPN2 and I know they need guys who tumble. And the Cheerios are national champions. I thought it'd be a good way to meet people at my new school. And then I walked into the gym." Blaine's voice petered out.

"And?" encouraged Burt.

"And I met this guy … with beautiful blue eyes and a snarky sense of humor and he openly flirted with me. _With me_, Mr. Hummel. _Shit_ like that, I mean, _stuff_ like that doesn't happen to me. Only it did. And as crazy hard as it's been to balance classes and our insane practice schedule and taking care of my grandfather and paying the bills and everything – it's been the _best_ eight weeks of my life."

Burt pulled up to Blaine's house, putting the car into park. "I'm glad the two of you found each other, Blaine. And as Kurt's dad, and a parent – I hope the two of you don't rush into things. I mean that, Blaine. Don't let Kurt pressure you into anything you're not ready for."

"Mr. Hummel, he hasn't-"

"Shh, Blaine. I'm not fishing for information. I'm not sure I'm ready to know, anyway. And that's not because you and Kurt are gay. I'm not ready to know about Finn and Sam's sex lives either." Burt couldn't contain the shudder that went through him with the images that popped into his head.

"All I'm trying to say here – is don't let anyone pressure you into anything you're not ready for. Whether it's my son or not. Never be afraid to go at your own pace. And don't ever be afraid to come talk to me about … well, anything. Because I'll listen, Blaine. Just as much as I listen to Kurt and Finn and Sam. Okay?"

"Thanks, Mr. Hummel."

"Yeah, well, I think you can stop with that whole Mr. Hummel thing too. It's Burt."

"Burt."

If Burt's throat tightened just a bit when he found himself with an armful of his son's boyfriend, he just swallowed around it and hugged the boy tighter. It was clear Blaine had more on his plate than an average fifteen year old.

"Burt? How did you know where I lived?" Blaine asked quietly.

"Just one of those amazing super-powers you inherit when you become a parent. Knowing where the boyfriend, or girlfriend, lives. I have others. But I'm sworn to secrecy – and can only reveal them on a need to know basis," Burt said with a grin.

"Burt? I'm gonna have to suggest to Kurt that he seriously limit your viewing of the sci-fi channel. Just sayin'" Blaine teased back.

Burt reached out and ruffled Blaine's hair affectionately. "Go get some rest, kid. We'll see you at the game tomorrow."

"Night, Burt. Thanks for the ride." It made Blaine feel safe to know that Burt waited until he was inside his house and had turned off the porch light before driving away.

* * *

_**End Note:** Clearly, I love Burt Hummel. Hands down my favorite supporting character on Glee. Next up: Friday night's game - more conflict, what Santana means when she says she's gonna go 'all Lima Heights', and possibly meeting Blaine's mom, in a rather awkward manner. I don't remember if I mentioned this before, but because someone asked, yes this story will continue for quite some time. This game is in late September. Nationals is in February. I think, have sketched things out, we will go into April. I have no idea how many chapters this will end up being. I could guess, but it will be too few and I hate being wrong. -k8_


	13. Nightmare on Elm Street (minus Johnny D)

**_A/N: _**_I love the moment when I check my email and see that a new chapter for a story I am following is there for the reading. I hope the 140 followers of Cheer Captain have that brief moment of happiness when you receive this in your inbox. This chapter is h.o.t. hot. Like many of us are experiencing weather-wise - although, at 80 degrees today, I have no complaints, although you might be amused to know I am writing this author's note poolside, while it occasionally rains. Weird weather. Well, for here.__  
_

**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is rated M for adult language and sexual situations. BillyMonroe - this is your official Iced Caramel Macchiato warning. Sexy times to commence asap!_

**_Disclaimer:_**_I do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed. (Maybe a little tired, worn out...but unharmed)_

* * *

**Chapter 13: Nightmares on Elm Street (minus Johnny Depp)**

**To: Sexy Cheer Captain**

Nightmares suck -B

**To: Sexy Cheer Captain**

Can't fall back 2 sleep -B

**To: Sexy Cheer Captain**

Classes r gnna suck too -B

**To: Sexy Cheer Captain**

So tired. Its not even 4am -B

**To: Sexy Cheer Captain**

Love u -B

When feeling stressed, Blaine knew he was prone to violently vivid nightmares. Even before the attack at the dance, Blaine would occasionally wake shaking, swallowing a scream as giant tidal waves sought to pull him out to sea. His attack had put a face to those nightmares. Well, three faces. So it was no real surprise that he found himself wide awake before four in the morning, exhausted beyond belief, but unable to shake the image – or the feeling – of the crowbar descending, or the sharp crack of his rib breaking.

Wide awake.

If he'd had homework to do, he could have worked on it. But he was diligent about keeping up with things – and usually managed to complete his homework during lunch or during English or Biology. His English teacher had pulled him aside because of this – and when he'd politely explained that he'd already read three-fourths of the novels on the class syllabus last year at Dalton, she'd smiled sympathetically. She'd told him as long as he maintained a B+ average, she wouldn't say anything about his working on his homework during class. And then she'd asked him to consider working as her teaching assistant the following year.

He was considering which Harry Potter movie to put into his lap top when his cell phone buzzed on his nightstand. Picking it up, he smiled.

**To: My Sexified Hobbit**

Still awake?

**To: Sexy Cheer Captain**

Yup

**To: My Hobbit**

K. go 2 ur window

Curious, Blaine looked over to his bedroom window, then slowly unfolded his legs and crawled across his bed. Hopping down, he went to the window, peering out into the darkness. A small tapping startled him, and then he realized that Kurt was standing in the bushes, waiting for him.

"_Shit_. It's _fucking_ cold, Hobbit," Kurt swore quietly, boosting himself up into Blaine's room. "Would have brought you coffee and a muffin, but The Lima Bean doesn't open until 5:30am." Dressed in a faded t-shirt and heather grey sweatpants, Kurt hadn't taken the time to even toss on a jacket before driving over to Blaine.

Reaching out he pulled Blaine into his arms, tucking the sleep-messed curls under his chin.

"Kurt," whispered Blaine. "You didn't have to come over," he said as he melted into Kurt's embrace.

"_Shush_. Go ahead and tell me you don't want me here and I'll call you a liar to your face," Kurt teased quietly skimming his hands over Blaine's navy sleep shirt that fit tight across his chest. "Who do you have for first period?"

"Salerno. P.E."

"_Bonus_," Kurt commented with a smile. Pulling out his phone, he shot off a quick text message with one hand, while keeping Blaine's body against his with the other. Once that was done, he pocketed he tossed the phone on to the stuffed chair next to Blaine's bed and cupped his face. "Go set your alarm for 9:30am," he said, brushing a kiss across Blaine's cheek.

"But … but … but I have class. We can't miss or we can't cheer," Blaine stuttered.

Shrugging, Kurt explained, "Coach will clear it. You're on _official_ Cheerio business with me during first period. Now let's see if we can get you to sleep so you're ready for the game tonight, okay?" Kurt tugged Blaine towards the bed, where they both climbed in, their legs a tangled bunch of grey sweat pants.

Blaine leaned over and reset his alarm clock and then turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Kurt's arms pulled him down and against his chest, where Blaine rested his head, listening to Kurt's slow heartbeat.

Kurt sighed heavily. "Nope, this isn't gonna work for me. Sit up, Hobbit." As soon as Blaine's weight had lifted, Kurt yanked off his shirt, throwing it into the darkness before divesting Blaine of his shirt just as quickly. "Much better," he mumbled, hands skimming over the smooth expanse of warm skin.

"You and your issues with clothes," Blaine giggled softly. He trailed his fingers over Kurt's chest and stomach in abstract patterns.

Kurt's body shook as he held in the laughter. "Really, it's quite simple. When we're together, we wear as little clothing as possible. For example, if this wasn't a school night – or morning – then I'd insist on stripping you of your pants and underwear too. Now, my dad, on the other hand, he wants us to wear as many clothes as possible. He'd have us in three sets of pajamas, a heavy winter coat and wrapped in individual sleeping bags. Probably in separate rooms, in separate states."

Blaine giggled at the image. Placing a kiss on Kurt's chest, Blaine snuggled deeper into his arms. "I like your rules better."

Running his hand over Blaine's back in soothing circles, he said, "Close your eyes, baby. I'll keep the nightmares away."

"Okay."

* * *

Kurt liked to sleep in as much as the next person, but after years of it being just him and his dad – who often needed to drop him off at extended day care before going to work, Kurt's body just naturally woke up at 6:23 every morning. During vacations, he'd glance at his alarm clock bleary eyed, flip his pillow to the cooler side, and allow his body to drift back to sleep. But since this was a school-day, despite Blaine being curled up next to him breathing heavily, Kurt decided to slip to his car to grab his school bag so he could finish some homework.

He'd just managed to slip his t-shirt back over his head when he heard steps shuffling down the hallway and Mabel's meowing. Clearly he wasn't the only person up this morning. Pushing the pillow he'd been laying on closer to Blaine's back, Kurt pulled the blanket up to his shoulders and dropped a kiss onto Blaine's curls just as the door to Blaine's bedroom creaked open.

Flushing slightly, Kurt raised a hand in greeting to Mr. Ladd and stepped towards across the room and through the door, shutting it as quietly as possible behind him.

"Don't you boys have school today?" asked Mr. Ladd quietly.

Kurt knelt and scratched Mabel's ears, then carefully picked her up, allowing her to nuzzle his neck. "Yes, sir. Um, can we talk in the kitchen? Blaine didn't sleep very well last night and I'd rather not wake him." He started giggling when Mabel reached her mouth up and began licking his ear. Kurt tried to move the cat away gently, but she had other ideas, and raised her paw to his jaw, unsheathing her claws just enough to hold Kurt in place.

"Miss Mabel – that is no way to treat a guest," Mr. Ladd lectured as he turned back, shuffling towards the kitchen. Once he was there, he pulled a second coffee mug from the cupboard and filled it up, placing in on a tray that was ready to go outside. "Come on, Kurt. You can join Miss Mabel and me for our morning coffee," he offered.

Once they'd settled into the chairs on the front porch, Kurt explained about Blaine's nightmares and his coming over so the younger boy could get some sleep. "He sent me a series of text messages and, after what happened at the football game yesterday … I just couldn't … Anyway, I'm sorry. I'm sorry this is the second time you've caught me in his bedroom." Kurt ran his hand through his hair and took a long sip of the coffee.

"Sorry you got caught, eh?" observed Mr. Ladd with a smile.

Kurt shrugged. "If I told you I was sorry I snuck in, you would know I was lying – and I don't want you to not be able to trust what I say. I just … I want you to know that I'm not trying to take advantage of your grandson. And I just wanted him to feel safe last night. Well, this morning." Spying Mabel looking expectantly at him, Kurt leaned back and allowed the grey-haired cat to settle into his lap.

Mr. Ladd raised his hand at the neighbor across the street who was hurrying to his car. "I appreciate that. But you should know that Blaine's mother will take a different view of things than I do." Seeing Kurt's look of panic, he patted the boy's arm. "No, I'm not going to tell her. If I thought Blaine were in danger of being hurt, well then, I might. Or, I might just take care of … the problem … myself. But it's clear the two of you care very much for each other. Just … I wouldn't go sneaking in to the house when she's home, is all I'm saying."

"Understood, Mr. Ladd. And … thank you." Kurt ran his fingers through Mabel's fur as she purred contentedly. He watched as the car that was delivering newspapers through the neighborhood by flinging them through the car window, stopped at Mr. Ladd's house. The man inside climbed out – leaving the engine running – and jogged up the walkway, handing Mr. Ladd the paper.

"Morning, Mr. Ladd," the darker skinned man greeted with a brilliant smile.

Nodding, Mr. Ladd replied, "Morning, Aaron. How's the family?"

"Doing well, Mr. Ladd."

Pointing to the edge of the porch, Mr. Ladd explained. "Those two grocery bags are for your family. Some persimmons and other goodies the boy and I have been making in bulk. Thanks for bringing me my paper."

"Mr. Ladd, sir, you are too kind." Carefully picking up the bags, Aaron faced Mr. Ladd again. "Thank you for this. My wife and the girls are so grateful for your generosity."

"You are very welcome, Aaron. Please let the girls know that if they would like to go 'picking' again, they are always welcome to come over on the weekends. Those darn persimmon trees produce more fruit than the boy and I can pick in our off time – and I would much prefer it go into the stomachs of people than the squirrels," he said with a laugh.

"I will tell them, Mr. Ladd. Have a pleasant day." With as much of a wave as he could give while juggling the grocery bags, Aaron returned to his car.

"You do the same, Aaron. You do the same." Mr. Ladd called after. Waiting until Aaron had climbed into his car before turning back to Kurt, he gave the teen a pointed stare. "So, it's Friday. Humor an old man, and explain why you and Blaine aren't frantically getting ready for school."

Kurt swallowed hard. "Um. Yeah, so about that –"

* * *

After detailing his plan to Blaine's grandfather, Kurt had gone to his car to remove his school bag and returned to Blaine's bedroom. There he spent another hour finishing up notes for his classes, only being interrupted once when Mr. Ladd peeked in to let Kurt know he was leaving. The Senior Center arranged for a twice a month vanpool to the local shopping mall, and Mr. Ladd was being picked up.

Stretching out his back and neck, Kurt glanced down and took in the sight next to him. Blaine lay on his stomach, stretched out almost diagonally across his full-sized bed. Cheek resting on the mattress, Blaine's face was buried into his pillow. His sleep shirt had pulled up during the night, while his sweat pants migrated south, leaving a vast swathe of naked skin exposed to the morning light.

And to Kurt.

Tossing his book to the floor, Kurt slid down the bed, throwing his leg over Blaine's sleeping form. Gently he pushed Blaine's shirt up as far as it would go, before placing a series of kisses down Blaine's warm back until he reached the waistband of his pants. Raising up, Kurt leaned down until he was pressed against Blaine's back, his lips next to Blaine's ear. Carefully, he took Blaine's earlobe between his teeth and suckled on it gently.

"Mmmm," moaned Blaine as consciousness slowly overtook him.

"Hey, Hobbit," rasped Kurt. "I can let you sleep for another 45 minutes, or we could…" Kurt paused to move his lips lower.

"Could what?" mumbled Blaine from the pillow. He wriggled under Kurt, pressing his ass up into Kurt. "Sss morning. Papa's up."

"Up, but gone," Kurt murmured, licking his way down Blaine's neck.

"Gone?"

"Uh huh. Shopping with the seniors. So … sleep or?"

"Mmm tired, Kurt," Blaine said, though he kept wriggling under Kurt.

"So you want to sleep?"

"_Nooo_," drawled out Blaine.

"_Oh_," sing-songed Kurt. "You want _me_ to do all the work, huh?"

"_Mmhmm_. Pleassse," he replied, opening his eyes half way to peer back at Kurt.

"Fine," Kurt sighed, blowing his bangs off his forehead. Sitting up, Kurt pulled Blaine's sweatpants off of him, before kneeling in between his legs. "_Commando_, Hobbit? _Really_? Damn," he teased, rubbing the palms of his hands from Blaine's calves all the way up to the globes of his pert ass, where Kurt began kneading slowly.

Bending down, Kurt ran the tip of his tongue along the crease where Blaine's leg met his ass, from his inner thigh across to his hip. He stopped there to bite and suck, reveling in both the groans Blaine couldn't keep inside and the growing purple bruise he was creating. "_Love_ the noises you make for me, Hobbit. So _fucking_ hot." Kurt continued kissing and biting and sucking all over Blaine's backside.

Unable to stop himself, Blaine ground his hips into the mattress, working on achieving some needed friction on his swollen cock. Bent on teasing Blaine further, Kurt was occasionally reaching around, to wrap his fingers around Blaine's stiffness, jerking him two or three times, before returning his hand to Blaine's ass. It was a bit of heaven and a bit of hell and Blaine didn't want to be anywhere but here.

Enthralled with how his boyfriend was responding to his touches, Kurt pressed his palms into the firm globes of Blaine's ass, slowly spreading his cheeks. Dipping down, Kurt ran his tongue along the cleft, moaning at the intimacy of the action.

"_Ohmygod_!" shrieked Blaine as he scrambled up the bed. Flipping over, he sat against the headboard and slammed a pillow into his lap. "What? What was _that_?" he asked, turning a deep crimson in embarrassment, arms wrapped around his chest protectively.

Kurt froze. "Blaine? Are you okay?" he asked quietly watching his boyfriend's lower lip tremble. "_Honey_?" He reached a tentative hand out towards Blaine's curls, and when Blaine didn't flinch away, Kurt fingered his curls. "Talk to me," he asked hoarsely, ducking his head down to try to meet Blaine's gaze.

"I don't. I don't even know. Kurt-" Blaine fumbled his words, unable to process what had just happened. Lifting his head, he stared out the window, biting his lip nervously.

All Kurt wanted to do was pull that lower lip away from those teeth, and kiss it slowly. What the hell had just happened? "Can I … can I come closer, B?" he asked in a whisper.

Blaine nodded.

Sliding up against the headboard to sit next to Blaine, Kurt wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled the younger boy to him. "I … okay, clearly I did something that you weren't ready for, B." Kurt pressed his lips up against Blaine's temple. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out."

"W. . Wait, you _meant_ to do that?" Blaine's eyes were wide when he pulled away to look at Kurt. "That thing … with your tongue. _There_. That was on purpose?" his voice was higher than Kurt had ever heard it.

If he hadn't been worried about hurting Blaine even more, Kurt would have given in to the laughter building up inside him. Blaine's innocence was absolutely adorable. Looking away for a moment, he said, "Breathe, babe. Just take a couple deep breaths for me." It was good advice to take himself.

When Kurt felt more settled, he assured, "Yeah, that _was_ intentional." Reaching over, he picked up Blaine's hand, threading their fingers together.

"But … but … but," stuttered Blaine.

"Yes. _Your_ butt. _My_ tongue," he teased gently. "It's called rimming, baby." Kurt shifted slightly so that Blaine was leaning more into his chest, snaking his arms to wrap around Blaine's waist

"People _do_ that?" Blaine's question was barely a whisper. "That's a…_thing_?"

Kurt's lips dropped to Blaine's shoulder, and he nipped down gently. "Yes. Sometimes. If both people find it enjoyable." The tip of his tongue snuck out to taste Blaine's slightly salty skin. When Blaine pressed back into him, Kurt took that as permission to continue kissing and nibbling up the side of Blaine's neck.

Tipping his head to the side to grant Kurt more access, Blaine had a difficult time believing Kurt's words. "You _actually_ think you'd enjoy that? Doing _that_ … to _me_?" He couldn't help that his question came out breathy – the things Kurt was able to do with his mouth were indeed impressive.

"Oh for goodness' sake, _come_ _here_," Kurt mumbled against the dark curls, guiding Blaine to sit between his legs, his cock trapped between his body and Blaine's back. "Hobbit. Look. I love being with you. I love … I love making love _with_ you. That's what we're doing when we do these things, right? Showing our love to each other physically? I absolutely love making you fall apart. I love watching fall over the edge and knowing that I'm the one who pushed you. It turns me on _just_ as much as everything you do to me."

Kurt ran his hands soothingly over Blaine's body, including over the tops of his thighs, still covered by the pillow. He could feel Blaine's pulse pick up as his hands skimmed over the sophomore's lower belly, the back of Kurt's hand just barely brushing Blaine's weeping cock. "Blaine, I wouldn't do anything to you that I was uncomfortable with. I won't do anything to you that I think will hurt you – in any way."

Blaine's head dropped down. "I'm so embarrassed," he mumbled.

"Don't! Stop!" Kurt said forcefully. "Look at me," he asked, waiting patiently for Blaine to turn in his arms and raise those honey colored eyes to his. "I broke a cardinal rule of being with someone. The one about always discussing with your partner when you want to take the next step – or a new step. I'm so sorry, Blaine. I really, truly didn't mean to freak you out." He reached out to cup Blaine's face and brushed their lips together.

Blaine opened his mouth, inviting Kurt to deepen the kiss. When Kurt finally obliged him, Blaine sucked lightly, drawing out breathy whimpers from his boyfriend. Feeling himself harden once again, Blaine guided Kurt's hand back under the pillow covering his lap, moaning when Kurt wrapped his fingers around his cock. Breaking the kiss, he rasped, "Please, Kurt."

"Please, what? What do you want from me, Hobbit? Do you need me to help you fall apart?"

"Kuuurt," whined Blaine in frustration moving his hips up and down.

Kurt snorted. "Lay down on the bed and put your hands behind your head, Hobbit." Reaching out, Kurt

Blaine started humming the theme song from the television show _Cops_ as he assumed the position.

"Hmmm." Kurt grasped the pillow, yanking it from Blaine's lap and tossing it onto the floor. "I'm game for handcuffs when you are, Hobbit," Kurt teased, licking his lips. "On you – or on me. Just let me know, if and when you want to play dirty cops and robbers."

"_Fuck_ _me_," groaned Blaine.

"Yup, getting to that, Hobbit. I'm getting to that. It's not even nine o'clock. There's no need to rush things. We'll even have time for round two in the shower if we keep to my time schedule. Now, a couple questions for you, if you think you can answer coherently." Kurt slid his hand up and down Blaine's length as he said this.

"Kuurt. You're mean," he pouted, twisting his fingers into his curls.

"I'm gonna be oh so nice to you in just a moment, baby. Tell me something. Does the idea that I find running my tongue over your ass hotter than shit, does that turn you off? Did you … hate everything about what I did … or were you mostly reacting because I surprised you?" Despite straddling Blaine's legs and lowering his mouth to Blaine's nipple, it was clear that Kurt desperately wanted Blaine's sincere answer.

"I … I was shocked, mostly. I thought it was an accident and I was embarrassed," Blaine admitted, turning into Kurt's mouth.

"Why were you embarrassed?" Kurt asked, moving to the other side.

"It felt fucking out of this world."

"But…"

"But you were licking _my ass_, Kurt," Blaine pointed out as if this explained things.

Kurt placed his hands on either side of Blaine's head and leaned down, placing a quick kiss on Blaine's nose. "I also lick your cock regularly and your balls – among other areas of your amazing body. Just wanted to point that out. Because when I do those things – it usually ends with you yelling my name. Or God's name. Or both. Just sayin'." Kurt offered Blaine an encouraging smile.

"Ass."

"You won't be saying that in another two minutes."

"Promises, promises."

"Well, I just want my boyfriend to know, that when and if he's ever ready to try that again … I'm willing. And able." Kurt wriggled his eyebrows, making Blaine giggle and drag him down for another heated kiss.

When they finally broke apart, Blaine asked, "What was the other question?"

"Oh, the other question," Kurt shook his head to clear it slightly. "Well, since I committed such a serious boyfriend infraction … I was wondering, if you … well, if you had any ideas as to what my consequence should be." He slowly sat back on his knees, hands resting on either side of Blaine's waist.

Blaine moved one hand from underneath his head, sliding it across his stomach until he could take Kurt's cock in hand, pressing it into his stomach as he stroked in back and forth. "Consequence? Something that will remind you that you need to inquire before crossing boundaries that haven't been breached?" Eyes darkening with need, Blaine narrowed his gaze.

"Five blow jobs," he intoned. Seeing Kurt was about to interrupt, Blaine removed his hand from Kurt and waggled a finger in his face. "Nuh uh. I decide. Five blow jobs in the next 24 hours. Where ever I want and whenever I want. Your mouth on my dick, sucking like your life depends on it. And the one you're about to deliver – that one doesn't count towards the five. 'Cause you were going to suck me off before this happened."

"I accept my consequence, Hobbit," Kurt said grinning. Falling forward, Kurt caught himself on his arms just before his body would have crashed into Blaine's. Nuzzling Blaine's ear for a moment, Kurt whispered, "Just to be clear here – I do have your permission, at this point, to place my soft, plump lips around your swollen cock, licking and kissing and sucking, with my mouth, and tongue until you completely fall apart and explode."

"_Ohmygodyes_," blurted Blaine, crashing their lips together again.

"Just checking," teased Kurt as he slid down Blaine's body. "And, Kurt is fine. I find 'my god' to be a bit much, this early in the morning."

"Ass!" Blaine answered back with no heat as Kurt dropped his heated mouth down. Blaine couldn't help but thrust up slightly, hand tangling in Kurt's hair to hold him in place. "Fuck, Kurt. Just like that. You're so good at sucking my cock. _So_ good."

Without breaking the attention his tongue was paying to Blaine's cock, Kurt slid them both down to the edge of Blaine's bed, making the other boy bend his knees and keep his feet flat on the bed. Standing between Blaine's legs, Kurt continued mouthing his cock, flicking the tip of his tongue just under the head. He moved one hand to gently fondle Blaine's balls as the other sank into the firm flesh of his ass. The non-stop filth dripping from Blaine's mouth was pushing him towards his own edge.

"Oh, _fuck_ me, Kurt. Suck it. _Yeah_, baby, just like that. **That**. Again, please. _Shit_, so good, so good. I wanna spend a weekend with your mouth on my cock. _Mmmm_. Just fucking your mouth for a whole weekend. Can we do that? Please baby? Oh, fuck, I'm close." Blaine raised himself up on his elbows watching Kurt watch him.

"_Kurt_?" he groaned.

Kurt raised his eyebrows to let Blaine know he was listening.

"Do it," Blaine could feel himself flushing at the request. "You said you were okay with it. I'm so … _fuck_, baby. _Please_? Once more? I promise I won't freak out this time. I just wanna know if … if I like it. _Please_," he pleaded, breaths coming in sharp pants.

Pulling off of Blaine slowly, Kurt rasped out, "_Say it_. Say it, Blaine. If you want me to _do_ it, then you have to use your words." He dipped his knees so he could nuzzle the soft skin between Blaine's cock and his balls. Flattening his tongue, he laved the skin there, his own stomach clenching as he took in the high-pitched keening of his boyfriend who was fast becoming a hot mess.

"_Please_, Kurt."

"_Say it_."

"**Fuck**."

"Say it."

"Please, Kurt, will you _lick_ … will you… your tongue. On my … my asshole," blithered Blaine, close to tears from the emotional upheaval.

"You want me to rim you?" growled out Kurt.

"_Fuck, yes, please._"

Standing up, Kurt reached out to cup Blaine's face in his hands. "I **love** you, Hobbit. I just want you to know that," he said seriously before kissing Blaine slowly and deeply. Breaking it off, he added, "I want you to come for me, B. Whenever you need to, you do that for me." He didn't see Blaine's nod as he traversed the sweaty expanse of Blaine's torso until his lips could once again wrap themselves around Blaine's cock.

Blaine flung an arm across his eyes, concentrating on the fierce wave of pleasure Kurt was creating inside of him. Feeling a sudden chill on his cock, Blaine realized Kurt had released it and had wrapped his fingers around it, stroking firmly as his mouth continued south. It was a damn good thing that the neighbors' houses were so far away, because there was no way Blaine could have kept the keening moans of pleasure inside his body – even if his life depended on it.

And then Kurt's tongue was there.

_**There**_.

And Blaine saw white.

White and stars.

He screamed so loud, his voice was hoarse for the rest of the school day.

When consciousness finally seeped back into his body, Blaine found Kurt lying on top of him, one arm pillowing his head, the other holding tight to his hand. "I kinda made a mess on the floor, Hobbit," he giggled. "That was _so_ fucking hot. Couldn't help myself."

"Do we _have_ to get ready for school?" whined Blaine, nuzzling into Kurt's neck.

"Yeah, we do. But, as encouragement, I offer the possibilities of both a shower blow job and perhaps a lunch time rendezvous? In the library?"

"_Shit_, Kurt, neither one of us can stay _that_ quiet," chuckled Blaine.

"Variety is the spice of life. Just trying for options beyond my car. Which is an option. But boring."

"I'll keep my mind open,"

"You do that."

"_Five_ more minutes."

"Five minutes. Then your perfect ass is getting up and moving to the shower."

"Will you wash me?"

"_Lazy-ass_ Hobbit"

"You **love** my ass."

"I love **you**. And _yes_, I'll wash _you_ and your _ass_."

"Good. Love you too."


	14. E Pluribus Unum

**_A/N:_**_ Well, I hit 5000 words and decided to post, although I still am not through what I envisioned for chapter 11. Yeah, that's not a typo. The focus of this chapter is those moments in life when something that is said to us, unintentionally hurts more than it was meant to. And sometimes, even knowing that the person didn't mean it that way, it still hurts._

**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is rated M for adult language and sexual situations._

**_Disclaimer:_**_I do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed. (Maybe a little tired, worn out...but unharmed)_

* * *

**Chapter 14: E Pluribus Unum**

_Faculty:_

_Please excuse the Varsity Football players and the Varsity Cheerio Stunt Squad from classes at 1:30pm for their 3:30pm away game. Please excuse the Varsity Cheerios from classes at 1:50pm. These students are aware it is their responsibility to make up any work missed by leaving class early. Thank you for supporting Titan athletics._

_Coach Beiste_

_-Varsity Football Coach_

_-William McKinley Athletic Director_

_Coach Sylvester_

_-Varsity & JV Cheerio Coach/ Advisor_

* * *

It really had been a waste of a school day, all things considered.

By the time they had finished showering, which included a very heated round two, and had gotten dressed in their uniforms, which included an impromptu round three because just seeing Blaine wearing those tight red pants had Kurt walking around half-hard, Kurt had found it necessary to exceed the speed limit by a smidge in order to get them to class – almost – on time.

As it was, Kurt walked into his second class of the day just under fifteen minutes past the bell meaning he wasn't forced to go to the attendance office for an admit slip. And if he happened to drop a coffee and toasted bagel on the desk of his government teacher while slipping into his seat, well, the other students could just take a lesson out of his playbook on how not to piss off a teacher if and when one is forced to be late because his boyfriend his sexier than should ever be allowed.

Then, not quite half-way through the period, Kurt had received a text message.

**To: Sex Machine Hummel**

Boys' Bathroom. Basement. 10 min. #2–Anderson

Fuck.

Kurt hadn't bothered with a reply. Gripping his stomach, he glanced over at his teacher and mouthed the word 'bathroom' while she was lecturing in front of the projection screen. Seeing her nod subtly, Kurt dashed for the door, making his way through the hallways with confidence. He'd established long ago that just walking with purpose, as if you knew where you were going and why, tended to keep nosy teachers and administrators from asking questions. Plus, as cheer captain, he had a reputation for being honest and hardworking – so no one would have ever expected him to be ditching class – let alone ditching class so he could go wrap his mouth around his boyfriend's cock.

Opening the door to the bathroom cautiously, Kurt jumped a little when Blaine's hand came out to clamp on his wrist, tugging him inside quickly before snapping the lock in place. Pupils blown with desire, Blaine led Kurt over to a folding chair, and pushed him into place.

"Why is there a chair in here?" Kurt asked, voice echoing slightly off the tiled walls and floor. Parting his legs, Kurt pulled Blaine to stand between them, then ran his hands over the tops of Blaine's thighs to his waist band, thumbs tracing the outline of Blaine's erection.

Blaine braced his hands on Kurt's shoulders and answered shakily. "Didn't want you to get your knees dirty. Took it from the band room. And if you wait another thirty seconds, they'll be rehearsing the music for the half-time show."

"Meaning?" Kurt drawled, sliding his hands into the back of Blaine's pants and maneuvering them down to free Blaine from their confinement.

"We won't have to be quiet…" Blaine rasped, a sly grin breaking across his face.

By the time Kurt returned to class, his government teacher was waiting for him outside the classroom. He apologized profusely, explaining how he'd clearly eaten something that didn't agree with him the night before, and admitting he was worried it might be food poisoning – but knew he had to attend his classes for the day if he hoped to cheer for the game this afternoon. Assuming it wasn't food poisoning, of course.

She'd patted his arm and offered to email him the notes he'd missed.

Lunchtime had seen the two of them sneaking out to the student parking lot to the backseat of Kurt's SUV for #3 of 5. Going down on Blaine had been ten times hotter, given the likelihood of their being caught by anyone walking past the car. Afterwards they'd shared lunch and a few more kisses, all while fighting the urge to fall asleep. By Kurt's count, in under 24 hours, he'd had six sexual encounters with Blaine – and was on track to achieve nine by tomorrow morning.

He didn't think he'd ever had nine orgasms in that short of time. Not even when he'd first discovered masturbation.

When lunch ended, Kurt walked Blaine to his third class of the day before jogging to his own. He'd only be in class for forty minutes before needing to leave to help load the mats onto the school bus. In total, Kurt estimated he'd spent just over an hour in classes today. Blaine was correct. They should have just spent the day in bed.

* * *

Kurt's Home Economics teacher was showing a film on food borne pathogens. Lovely. Up-close and personal shots of bacteria, viruses and the ensuing results had Kurt closing his eyes so as to not lose his lunch. From there it was only natural to put his head down onto his arms in the darkened classroom and fall to sleep.

"_Kurt_? _Kurtie_? Dolphin Kurt, are you awake?"

Blinking and lifting his head, Kurt realized he'd fallen asleep, only to be woken up by Brittany Pierce, a sophomore on the Cheerio squad. Turning his head to read the clock, he couldn't help the expletive that burst forth. "Shit!"

Unsteady on his legs, Kurt shoved up from the table, grabbing his cheer bag. "Come on, Brit. We need to book it to the bus."

It was 1:58.

Shrugging the strap of his bag over his head, Kurt grabbed Brittany's hand, jogging quickly through the school hallways. Kurt was supposed to have been loading the mats onto the bus with the rest of the stunt squad guys at 1:30. Brittany was supposed to have left class at 1:50 to go down to the bus – but she'd probably assumed Kurt, as captain, knew something she didn't. Either way, the bus was slated to leave at 2pm – with or without them on board.

"**Porcelain**! My office! Now!" screeched Coach Sylvester's voice through her ever present mega-phone.

Kurt stumbled, but managed to stay on his feet. Handing his cheer bag to Brittany, he whispered, "Go. Give that to Santana. Tell her I'm talking to Coach. And thanks."

"No problem, Kurt," she smiled before turning to skip down the hallway.

Shaking his head, Kurt walked into Coach Sue's office, fear tightening his stomach perceptibly. "Yes, Coach?" he said, standing just inside the doorway.

She sat on the edge of her desk, lips pursed in anger. "We need to talk, my pale friend. And by we, I mean me. I'll talk. You'll listen. And because you've a bus to catch, I'll make it short – like that boyfriend of yours that seems to be distracting you from your duties. You missed first period, left second period for at least thirty minutes because of a tummy ache, and fell asleep during third. I don't know what the hell is going on – but rest assured, if this behavior continues, not only will you no longer be captain of the Cheerios, you'll find yourself off the squad entirely."

Kurt felt his eyes begin to burn and he bit his lower lip hard to keep his focus. "I understand, Coach. It won't happen again."

"You need to figure your priorities, Hummel. If it isn't this team, then at the very least you need to resign the captaincy."

"Yes, Coach."

"Good. Get out of my office. We've got a game to get to," she said in clipped tones, brushing past him.

Fighting to keep his emotions under control, Kurt held it in until she turned the corner. Body shaking with sobs he refused to let out, Kurt pulled the door to her office gently closed. Swiping the back of his hand across his eyes, he pushed the pain and frustration aside so he could focus. Focus on being captain of the nationally ranked William McKinley Cheerios.

* * *

Finn and Blaine stood together outside the bus, frantically looking at the clocks on their phones and then back towards the school. The driver had said he would wait until 2:10pm. But after that, he had to leave so he could make it back to do his afternoon bus run for another school. Hearing footsteps pounding down the steps of the bus, the boys turned to see Santana striding towards them.

The engine of the bus roared to life behind her. "What the fuck?" she yelled over the noise. "He's a dead man walking if Sylvester finds out he missed the bus – even if she's the reason. Driver says we have ninety seconds."

"There!" came Blaine's relieved sigh. "There he is."

The three people closest to Kurt could tell something was wrong immediately. Sunglasses covering his eyes, he bit out a "Sorry, I'm late," before shouldering his way through them. Santana grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"What's up?" she asked in a tone that demanded an immediate answer.

"Coach is pissed at me," he ground out trying to move onto the bus.

"Because you fell asleep in Foods?" asked Finn.

Spinning around, Kurt vented his frustration. "No, _Finn_. I had some _stupid_ stuff I had to deal with this morning and I guess she got upset that I asked her to excuse me from class – and now she thinks I don't deserve to be captain because I'm _distracted_ and that shows a lack of commitment. So if it's all the same to you, let's get on the _fucking_ bus and go to the game so I can do my _fucking_ job as captain, okay?"

Yanking his wrist from Santana, Kurt stalked up the stairs of the bus and threw himself into the first bench seat, staring blankly out the window. Santana followed, sliding in next to Kurt and took his hand. She knew how much being captain meant to Kurt, and she knew how seriously he took the position. For Coach Sue to threaten to strip that from Kurt – it would honestly destroy him.

"We'll figure something out, Kurt," she murmured softly. "We'll figure something out."

* * *

Grabbing Blaine's shoulder, Finn maneuvered the sophomore towards the bus. "_You_ were that stuff he was dealing with this morning, weren't you?" he said just loud enough so Blaine could hear.

Blaine stared at him blankly before dropping his gaze to the pavement.

"Dude. I'm not super smart, but I'm not as dumb as most people seem to think," Finn commented right before Blaine climbed up the steps. Finn took them two at a time and the driver, impatient by this point waiting on teenagers, didn't even wait for them to find seats before pulling away from the curb.

Finn noticed that Blaine refused to look at his brother – and his brother was staring out the window like someone had stolen his collection of those fashion magazines he loved so much. Realizing that Blaine was looking for an open seat with the other Cheerios, Finn squeezed his shoulder and leaned forward. "Keep going. You can sit with me and Puck in the last row."

Puck sat in the middle of the bench seat that stretched across the back of the bus. Seeing Blaine and Finn approach, he slid to one side, allowing Blaine to take the spot closest to the window. Finn moved next to Blaine.

"Hey, Anderson!" greeted Puck.

Blaine leaned around Finn to offer up his fist. "Hi, Puck." They bumped fists and slapped hands in a rapid fire pattern that Puck had spent the better part of a lunch period teaching Blaine, once he'd learned that Blaine followed Ohio State football.

Dave Karofsky turned around in the seat in front of Blaine and nodded. "So, you think our boys are gonna win tomorrow?"

Thinking about it a moment, Blaine offered a small nod. "I think if the defense does what they're supposed to do, then yeah. It's not gonna be the blow out that last week was – I mean … San Diego State? _Really_? But it will definitely give us an idea if we can compete against Wisconsin and Penn State this year. Cal's got a really strong quarterback and their running game has been impressive too." Blaine offered up his analysis with an air of authority.

They spent the next ten minutes discussing college football until finally Blaine sat back and rested his head against the window, content to listen to the others argue. When Finn squeezed his knee lightly, Blaine looked over at the quarterback who had his eyebrows raised expectantly.

"_Yeah_," Blaine admitted quietly, picking up their conversation from earlier. "I was the _stupid_ _stuff_ Kurt was dealing with this morning."

Finn shook his head. "He didn't mean it the way it came out." Rolling his eyes, Finn shared, "I should know. I'm like the emperor-king of putting my foot in my mouth."

Blaine's mouth pulled up in a half smile. "I shouldn't have bothered him," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. "It's my fault he didn't show up to first period. My _stupid shit_." He didn't fight it when Finn put his arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

"Problems with your grandfather?" asked Finn. He turned in the seat so he was facing Blaine, effectively shutting out the other players sitting around them from their conversation.

"No," Blaine said with a shake of his head. "Nightmares. About what happened to me. I couldn't sleep and I was texting him. He decided to come over and sleep with me."

Puck had stretched his chin over Finn's shoulder in order to continue eavesdrop and blurted out, "Way to go, Anderson."

Blaine shot him an annoyed glance and sighed. "Not like _that_, Puckerman."

"But you were able to sleep after he got there," Finn commented, closely watching Blaine's reactions.

"Yeah. He sent a text to Coach so we could miss first period, so I could get some more sleep. So see, it was _my_ fault he missed class and was so tired that he fell asleep. _My_ fault Coach threatened his captaincy." Chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully, Blaine finally looked up at Finn. "I'm **not** gonna be the reason he has to leave the Cheerios. I'm not, Finn. I'll quit first."

"You're _not_ gonna quit, Anderson," Finn said forcefully.

"Damn straight," added an incredulous Santana, dropping down into the seat with Dave Karofsky. Kneeling backwards, she ruffled Blaine's curls with affection. "It'll be fine, Hobbit. I promise. You're not gonna quit. You're not gonna break up over this. You're gonna continue sneaking out during class to have your quickies in the boys' bathrooms and in the back seat of Lady Hummel's car," she teased quietly.

Dave and Puck stared pointedly at Blaine. "_Wait, wait, wait_," stuttered Puck, holding up the palm of his hand. "You," he pointed a finger at Blaine, "just said you and Hummel weren't sleeping together."

Flushing so he matched his uniform sweater, Blaine ducked down behind Finn's shoulder. Taking a deep breath, and immediately regretting it, given the scent of Finn's football pads, Blaine looked directly at Puck. "_No_. I **said** Kurt came over to sleep with me in my bed. _You_ thought I meant we were … having sex. _I_ said it wasn't like that."

Pressing his lips together, Blaine tried to think how best to explain things without revealing too much. "Kurt's my boyfriend. We … we do … things, that … _shit_, Puckerman. We do the kinds of things you or Finn might do with a girlfriend. Kiss. Hug. Snuggle on the couch. Just because we both have cocks doesn't make _that_ any different." Looking at Santana who had an enormous grin covering her face, he apologized, "Sorry, Santana."

"Don't be," she smirked. "It's a fucking turn on to hear words like cock spill out of your pretty little Hobbit lips." She rested her index finger on his lips, giving him a wink when he kissed it. "Feel free to leave me a message sometime with you moaning those naughty naught words. Completely optional, but bonus points, if Hummel's worshiping your _spirit stick_ during the call."

"**_Shit_**, Santana," whined Finn, slapping his hands over his ears, "that's _my brother_ you're talking about. _Stop_ it. I don't need the mental pictures."

"Whatever, Hudson," she laughed, spinning around to face the front of the bus.

Toeing off his shoes, Blaine swung his legs up into Finn's lap, his feet resting against Puck's thigh. Leaning his head against the window, he closed his eyes, hoping the droning noise from the engine would lull him to sleep.

"Just make yourself at home, Blaine," Finn grumbled.

"Thought I'd catch a nap," he commented with a yawn. Opening one eye, he moistened his lips. "Or I could describe for Puckerman exactly what happened during lunch in the backseat of your brother's car."

"Please, god, no," blurted Finn.

The hearty laughter of his friends sitting around him lifted Blaine's spirits just enough. Using the crook of his arm as a pillow, he drifted off to the sounds of the football players talking loudly.

* * *

"Okay, listen up," shouted Kurt. "Once you've finished stretching, I want you to go down to the far side of the track and run through the halftime dance. Three times. By counts. Those of you who are doing the mini-stunts are **not** to do them for this run-through. Just pause where you are supposed to be until you're supposed to move to the next formation. The _last thing_ we need is for someone to get hurt – especially for those of you with aspirations of trying out for the comp squad. Stunt squad, I need you to stay here so we can discuss what modifications we need to make today because of Sam's injured hand. Anyone have questions?"

Kurt paused long enough to look over the assembled cheerleaders. Seeing no one had raised a hand, not that he was expecting that, he called out, "Alright. Emmaleigh and Desiree will be conducting uniform checks for me. Let's make sure we are presenting a unified style. Dismissed."

Most of the cheerleading team moved off to finish warming up before the game began, leaving just the twelve member stunt squad standing on the heavy mats they'd moved from the school bus to the far side of the football stadium where they'd be cheering. Where McKinley had a golf cart to help with the transportation of the mats, the home team either didn't have one, or refused to offer it up. They were a pain to maneuver – and in the end, Coach Beiste had waved over several football players to help them out.

Folding his arms across his chest, Kurt was all business as he laid out the expectations for the afternoon game. "Santana and I talked on the ride here because we clearly need to make some changes since Sam won't be putting any weight on his hand for the next ten days." Holding up a hand, Kurt cut Sam's protest off before it began. "_Don't even_, Sam. Two words: _Doctor's Orders_."

Santana moved over until she stood shoulder to shoulder with Kurt. "Besides, you know Porcelain's dad will be here – and if he finds you stunting with Fabray," she paused dramatically, cocking her head to the side, "well, we all know he'll march down to the track and drag your ass home. It's a joint decision, Evans."

Quinn huffed loudly. "So where does that leave _me_?"

While Kurt opened his mouth to answer her question first, Santana's light touch on his wrist belayed his reply.

"What, exactly, do you want to know, _Fabray_?" Santana's tone was cool, and anyone else would have picked up on the subtle warning it implied.

Hands on her hips, Quinn refused to back down. "What I want to _know_ is: what am _I_ supposed to do since my stunt partner is out of commission? It's not _my_ fault that Sam broke his hand because someone else," she looked directly at Blaine, "couldn't handle his _own_ problems. But _I'm_ the one being punished because of it. If anything, Blaine should have to sit out – since all of this is _his fault_."

Whirling on his stunt partner, Sam glared at her. "_You_ don't know what the _fuck_ you're talking about, Quinn. You weren't _there_. So do us all a favor and shut the hell up." He continued to stare her down until she finally flushed and looked the other way.

Rosemary brushed up behind Blaine, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him close. "I've never met a person with a bigger ego than Quinn Fabray," she whispered his ear. "The world revolves around her and all of us peons, well, we're just supposed to bow down and be thankful when she so much as glimpses in our direction."

Rosemary's fingers crept under his sweater, tickling him. As he tried not to laugh while wriggling out of her grasp, she added, "Don't you dare let her get to you. Sam's right. She doesn't know what she's talking about. She wasn't there – and Sam would do it again in a heartbeat." She continued her assault on his ticklish spots, working to draw a sincerely smile from her partner.

"**Gartin**! **Anderson**!" shouted Kurt. "If you can't focus on our discussion, then by all means go run some laps."

Tilting her head to the side, Rosemary stared pointedly at Kurt as she slowly withdrew her hands from Blaine's waist. She could feel the tension vibrating between her partner and Kurt, but even with that, she was shocked to find Blaine yanking off his sweater, leaving himself in his t-shirt and red cheer pants.

"Yes, Captain," came Blaine's clipped reply before he walked off to place his sweater in his cheer bag before starting a slow jog around the track. Moments later Rosemary fell into step with him.

"Wanna talk about it, Blaine?" she asked quietly.

Sighing deeply, he shook his head. "Not really. At least, not now."

She reached over and took his hand in hers, squeezing it briefly.

"Hey, now. I don't wanna make Sam jealous," he teased quietly. "How are things with you two?"

Rosemary smiled shyly. "He's taking me out tonight, after the game."

Blaine's smile was sincere. "That's great, Rosie. I think … I think you two are a good match," he said staring at the ground in front of him as they continued running.

"Kinda like you and Kurt," she prodded gently.

He shrugged. "Yeah, kinda. I guess. I mean, sometimes things are really, really great. And sometimes they just fall to shit and I'm not even sure why." He stopped talking as the neared where the other Cheerios were beginning to run through the dance routine. When they'd gone past, Blaine caught Rosemary's eyes. "Why does caring about someone so much make it hurt that much more?" he asked quietly.

Rose was silent as they jogged around the track, passing where the stunt squad was warming up some basket tosses and basic lifts. Once they were where she knew the others wouldn't hear, Rose began speaking. "My dad says love and hate are two halves of the same whole. And when you give someone your heart to hold, you're giving them the ability to cut you deeper than anyone else. So he's always told us to choose wisely. When it comes to handing someone your heart."

"Wow, Gartin, that was deep," chuckled Blaine, nudging her with his shoulder.

"I have my moments. So how long are we gonna run?" she asked, nudging him back.

"Until he yells at me to come back. Or the bus is leaving to go home. Whichever comes first," he answered dryly.

Rose spun to jog backwards. "Oh, _snap_, Anderson. Now I'm dying to know what the hell happened. No, no. No pressure. But my mind overruns with the possibilities. Okay, just answer me _this_ … does it involve another guy?"

Rolling his eyes, Blaine reached out to grab Rosemary's arms, directing her around a series of players and coaches who were walking out to the field. "No. No jealousy. No other guy. Just … just something he said that really hurt me to hear, and I'm trying to let it go, because Finn's right, he _didn't_ mean it the way it came out, but it still _hurt_. That and Coach said he's distracted because of me – and she threated to kick him off the Cheerios."

Rosemary stopped running. "**That** will _never_ happen. Seriously, Blaine. I call bullshit on Coach's story. She'd never do that to the team. We _need_ Kurt and she knows it. And before the pretty little thought bubbles up in your head that she'll just get rid of you instead, that's bullshit too. We need you **both** to win at Nationals."

"I'm not so sure about that," admitted Blaine, moving past her slowly.

"Yeah, well, I am. And, if _I_ were you, _I'd_ be taking off my t-shirt about now and jogging by my man, _reeeal_ slow. Because if you're gonna be accused of being a distraction – well, then, go ahead and be a distraction," she said, winking.

"Rosemary, you are a _bad_ _bad_ influence on me," Blaine chuckled, reaching for the bottom of his shirt.

"Yes. Yes, I am," she shot back, swishing her hips flirtatiously.

"Let me know if he's watching," Blaine asked as he ran over to his bag and tossed his t-shirt in its general direction. Smoothing his hands down his chest, and over the bumpy ridge of his scar, Blaine glanced over towards the stunt squad, but studiously avoided meeting Kurt's gaze. Not missing a beat, he met back up with Rosemary.

"Definitely. He was definitely watching," she drawled out happily. "In fact, he's probably still watching your perfect little bubble butt."

"**Anderson**! Get back here!" barked Kurt. "You too, Gartin."

Slinging and arm around Rosemary's shoulders, Blaine glanced down at her. "He's _still_ upset."

"Because he doesn't want the other boys checking out what's his. _Duh_." Rose tightened her hold on his waist, wanting him to know she was there to support him. Together they walked up to Kurt.

"Yes, oh Captain, my Captain." Rosemary smiled up at Kurt innocently.

Kurt's temper flared and he stepped closer so his voice wouldn't carry. "This _isn't_ some joke, Rosemary. I thought having to run laps would have been enough to press that home, but apparently I was wrong." He paused long enough to take a breath. "You're sitting out the first half. Go take seat on the bleachers." He glared at her until she spun on her heel and did as he asked.

Taking a deep breath, Kurt turned to look at Blaine. "What the **_hell_** do you think you're doing?"

Quietly, Blaine answered, "Running laps. Because you told me to. Captain."

"**Don't**," Kurt spat out. "_Don't_ disrespect me."

"I don't mean to be disrespectful, Kurt. I just don't know what you want from me right now," Blaine replied frankly.

Kurt's eyes narrowed and grabbing Blaine's elbow, he pulled him over to the cheer bags, snatching up Blaine's t-shirt and thrusting it into his hands. "What I _want_ is for you to understand that _you_ running around the track, half in uniform and half naked, is disrespectful – not only to the uniform and what it represents, but to the school _and_ to me. Because _this_ is **my** team, Blaine." Kurt's voice was filled with passion as he spoke about the Cheerios.

"_You_ represent **me**. Do you get that? When you pull _stupid_ _shit_ like this, it makes _me_ look bad. Because I'm captain and with _that_ comes the responsibility of setting the tone for this squad. And it makes me look _doubly_ bad, because we're dating." Bending down, Kurt unzipped Blaine's bag and pulled out his sweater. Once Blaine had shrugged into his t-shirt, Kurt handed him the sweater and helped to tug it into place.

"I need you to sit out the first half with Rosemary. Because I wouldn't let anyone else pull a stunt like this and get away with it. And if I don't sit the two of you out, the rest of the team will start grumbling about me playing favorites. You understand why I have to do this, right?"

"Yeah, I do," Blaine said, nodding his head. Lips pressed together until they were white, Blaine gazed at the track, wondering if it was worth the trouble to apologize. Taking a very deep breath, he let it out slowly. "Kurt? I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry you're having to deal with all my stupid shit."

Having let his gaze wander towards the football field, Kurt's head snapped back. "Blaine-"

"No, let me finish, so you can do what you have to do," interrupted Blaine. "I'm sorry you … caught flak for … this morning. I'm sorry I've been distracting you from your duties as captain. I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

All of Blaine's apology was said so quietly that Kurt was half lip reading to understand what he was saying. "Blaine-" Kurt's voice lost its heat and anger.

"It's all good, Kurt," Blaine murmured. "I'm gonna go sit with Rosemary. Don't want to keep you from doing your job." Without waiting for Kurt to answer, Blaine walked off towards the stairs, leaving Kurt to stare after him.

Pulling out his cell phone, Kurt sent a series of texts, hoping to alleviate some of the anxiety that had lodged in his stomach.

**To: My Sexified Hobbit**

I love you – K

**To: My Sexified Hobbit**

Waking up with you in my arms was the best part of my day – K

**To: My Sexified Hobbit**

Seriously. – K

**To: My Sexified Hobbit**

We can talk tonight. If you want. –K

**To: Kurt H**

That's not necessary. Plz stop texting me – B

**To: Kurt H**

Ur gonna get in trouble. – B

**To: My Sexified Hobbit**

You're worth the trouble – K

**To: Kurt H**

I'm not & U need to set expectations – B

**To: Kurt H**

Turning off my phone now – B

Feeling confused and a bit overwhelmed, Blaine powered down his phone, and slipped it into his pocket, staring out onto the football field as the McKinley Titans lined up to take the field. At some point later, he became aware that Rosemary had slipped her hand into his own. Turning his head slightly, he brushed a kiss against her temple. "I'm really glad you're my friend," he said quietly.

"And your bad influence?" she teased gently, digging her elbow into his side.

"Especially my bad influence." After a pause, Blaine asked, "So where is Sam taking you tonight?"

* * *

That evening, after they had returned to McKinley, Blaine listened with the rest of the Cheerios as Coach lambasted them for their pathetic performance and then informed them that anyone wanting to try out for the competition squad traveling to Florida would have to be at the workshop tomorrow morning.

Sure.

Blaine concentrated on taking slow deep breaths, as he tried to fathom how any adult thought that calling kids names and constantly berating them for their poor performance would be motivating in the least. He had his mom to do that for him – he didn't need it from his coach for an activity that he paid an obscene amount of money to participate in. At least with his mom, he knew that deep down she loved him, and only wanted him to do his best. With Coach – well, Blaine suspected she was just mean.

When the screeching noise from the megaphone finally stopped, Blaine walked over to the side of the school bus and grabbed his cheer bag from the pile the football players had left for them. Swinging the strap up over his shoulder, he walked quietly away from the crowd. Yeah, he was supposed to leave his uniform to be dry cleaned with everyone else's, but given his current mood, he wasn't stepping foot in that locker room willingly until Monday at the earliest.

In fact, he wasn't coming back to McKinley until Monday morning.

Not after what Kurt said.

Not after what Quinn said.

Not after what Coach said.

No, Blaine had an appointment to keep with his bed and pillow. And if he could convince his mother to leave him be, Blaine wasn't planning on getting out of his bed the entire weekend.

The more he thought about this, the more he realized how heavenly that idea sounded.

* * *

_End Note: Hmmm... it seems as though our young Blaine Anderson doesn't intend to try out for the competition squad. Do you think his fellow cheerleaders are going to allow this? And just how might they 'convince' him to do it? Stay tuned: Same Bat Time; Same Bat Channel (oh, I certainly dated myself with that reference). -k8 PS. Thanks for your kind reviews!_


	15. A House Divided

**_A/N:_**_ We're at 6300+ words and I'm pleased with how this chapter came together - hope you will be too. Thanks to those of you who have hit follow & favorite & a special thank you to those of you who have been so kind in your written reviews. It gives me a boost of encouragement to continue writing and leave the laundry for later when I realize I'm writing for other people's enjoyment. Billi, thank you for your continued cheerleading of me as I go through the writing process. You know who will arrive shortly with your iced coffee._

**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is rated M for adult language and sexual situations._

**_Disclaimer:_**_I do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed. (Maybe a little tired, worn out...but unharmed)_

* * *

**Chapter 15: A House Divided**

"What do you _mean_ you don't know where he is?" Kurt's voice betrayed his panic at not finding Blaine with the others who were coming over to the house for the evening.

Sam held his hands up. "Look, we _all_ knew to meet at your car after the game so we could grab something to eat before heading over to you house. _We_ –" Sam gestured towards Finn, Puck, Rosemary and Sage, "all managed to find our way here. Why are you getting pissy with us because we don't know where your boyfriend is?"

Kurt looked helplessly at Santana, who pulled out her phone, punched a series of numbers and held it to her ear. After a few moments, she shook her head and placed it back into her top. "Voice mail. He must not have turned it back on," she stated calmly.

"Look, Karsyn said he walked off after Coach finished her '_motivational talk'_. Finn says he wasn't in the locker room. Blaine probably walked home." Sage offered. "I'm not sure _I'd_ want to spend more time with us – if I were him."

Clenching his hands into fists, Kurt slumped against the passenger side door, banging his head lightly against the glass window. "_Dammit_. I explained why I did what I did. I thought he understood."

Standing next to Sam, with his arm wrapped tight around her shoulders, Rosemary spoke up. "He totally gets why we sat out, Kurt. He was upset about something else. Something you said that hurt his feelings, but he said he knew you didn't mean it like that. He didn't really want to talk about it, and I didn't push." She pushed her hair behind her ears and leaned into Sam.

"_Oh_," blurted Finn. _"I_ know what upset him, then."

Everyone heard the loud pop of his neck when Kurt snapped it around to stare at his brother, waiting for an explanation. When it looked like Finn wasn't going to say anything, Kurt gestured with his hand. "And will you be _sharing_ this wisdom any time soon, Finnegan?"

"What?" Finn looked slightly confused for a moment, before it clicked. "_Oh_. Are you sure you want me to say it … _here_?" Eyes wide, he gestured with his head towards their friends standing around them.

Kurt blew out the air in his lungs in a huff. "Is it a secret? Did Blaine ask you not to tell me, or anyone else?"

"No."

"Then, _yes_, Finn," Kurt sighed impatiently, "I would just _really_ like to know what I did or said that upset Blaine to the point that he walked off without saying anything to anyone. Because as far as I knew, he was still coming with us tonight and had permission to spend the night so we could all go to the workshop together."

Swallowing hard, Finn placed his large hand on Kurt's shoulder and squeezed it gently. "When you walked up to us at the bus this afternoon – you said you'd been dealing with stupid stuff this morning. _Blaine_ was that stupid stuff. That's what he heard, whether you meant it like that or not. _I_ know you didn't mind helping him out with his nightmares."

"He _told_ you about that?" Kurt asked in surprise.

"Yeah. Well, mostly me. Puck overheard and joked about how the two of you were sleeping together," Finn explained.

Kurt closed his eyes, dropping his head against the window hard. "He called me when he was feeling vulnerable and now he thinks I think it was for a stupid reason. God, I feel like _such_ an ass." Peeling one eye open, Kurt glanced towards Rosemary. "Ro? Can you do me a _huge_ favor and call his grandfather's house on the land line? See if he's there, at least? I don't know if they've got caller I.D. and I don't want to risk that he doesn't pick up because he sees it's me."

Phone already in hand, Rosemary was scrolling through her contacts list when she said firmly, "Fine. But _Porcelain_? Next time Queen Bee Fabray makes my partner feel like _shit_ with her verbal diarrhea of the mouth – _you_ need to be the one to put her in her place. As **_Captain_**. Because what she said, was out of line on _so_ many levels."

Holding up a finger to let the others know it was ringing, they knew Blaine had picked up from just her smile. "Hey there, Hobbit. Forget to turn your phone back on? We were worried when we couldn't find you." There was a pause, and then, "No, don't worry. I'm just happy you're home safe. So, do you want us to come pick you up for dinner? You are still coming to Hummel's tonight, right?"

There was an even longer pause, and the others could tell that Rosemary wasn't really happy with what she was being told by Blaine. "Blaine? No, I'll tell him." She looked up at Kurt, shaking her head slightly. "What about?" Pause. "No, that's not – Blaine. Blaine we need you. Right, I understand that. That's just how she is." Deep sigh. "I understand. I don't like it and I don't agree with it, but I understand. Yeah, I'll see you Sunday to work on our Spanish project. Bye, Hobbit."

Hanging up her phone, she announced, "He's not trying out for the comp team."

"Oh, _hell_ no," exclaimed Santana. "That is **_not_** an option. Change of plans, boys and girls. We're going over to Hobbit's house."

* * *

Sage had been the voice of reason, suggesting that having all seven of them roll up on Blaine might just cause him to withdraw further. She'd offered to take Finn, Puck, and Sam back to the Hummels' house in the twins' mini-van while Kurt, Santana, and Rosemary went to talk with Blaine. Since no one objected to the plan, that's exactly what they did.

Kurt pulled up and parked in front of Mr. Ladd's house, noticing an unfamiliar car parked in the driveway. Wondering if it belonged to Blaine's mom, he climbed out of the car and rather than walking towards the front door, motioned the girls towards the open side gate. Seeing their looks of confusion, Kurt smiled to reassure them. "If the gate's open, then Blaine's probably in the backyard with his grandfather. You're gonna love Mr. Ladd."

Leading the way, Kurt found Mr. Ladd under the persimmon trees with a woman and two young girls whose heads were covered with tiny braids, each fastened with a colorful plastic barrette. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but he did wonder if these were the paper delivery man's family. The girls, who couldn't have been more than five and eight, were running around under the trees, picking up the persimmons that Mr. Ladd and their mother were picking with the strange contraption that consisted of a broom pole with a metal basket attached.

"Hi, Mr. Ladd!" Kurt called out.

The older man turned and waved. "Kurt! Hello. How was the game? Did your team win?"

"Yes, sir. My brother threw for three touchdowns and we ran in two more. And I think there was a field goal too. Mr. Ladd? I'd like to introduce you to Santana," he turned and held up a hand towards his best friend, "and Rosemary. They're on the cheerleading squad with Blaine and me."

"Ah, hello girls. It's a pleasure to meet you both. Blaine's in the house fixing dinner. His mother's home – just so you know," he commented with an eyebrow waggle towards Kurt. "She's looking forward to finally meeting you – in light of the amount of time Blaine's been blithering on about the two of you."

Running his fingers through the hair on the back of his neck, Kurt offered a timid half-smile. "I'm looking forward to meeting your daughter … I think," he chuckled. At a tiny tug on his shirt, Kurt turned his attention to the younger of the two girls. Squatting down, he smiled at her.

Solemnly she explained, "Ms. Ladd is a _nice_ lady. She makes us yummy bread and my favorite is pumpkin. Mr. Blaine puts chocolate chips in for me when she's not looking."

"Mmmm, I like chocolate chips," Kurt admitted. "I like to make chocolate chip cookies. Do you think, if I made some extra cookies and brought them here, your dad could pick them up and bring them home to you and your sister?"

Eyes wide as saucers, the little girl began to nod quickly. "I would like that very much, Mr. –"

"Kurt," he supplied. "My name is Kurt."

"Mr. Kurt. I like cookies too."

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Kurt asked quietly, reaching out to close the clasp on one of the colorful barrettes.

"Safira."

"What a beautiful name. Well, Safira, I promise you that the very next time I make chocolate chip cookies, I will make enough so you can bring some to school in your lunch. So did you come over to help Mr. Ladd pick his persimmons?"

"Yes, Mr. Kurt. We like both types of persimmons and Mr. Ladd, he says he has too many for him and Mr. Blaine. Plus we bring some of them to share at church – because some people have never _ever_ **_ever_** had a persimmon," she said, clearly horrified at the thought.

"_Really_? Never?" Kurt continued to smile at the young girl.

"No. It's _so_ sad," Safira stated matter-of-factly.

"Oy, Santana. You ever eat a persimmon before?" called Kurt.

Santana bit off whatever off-colored remark she was about to make when she saw how closely the little girl with Kurt was watching her. "Um, can't say that I have," she shrugged.

"Safira?" Kurt held his hand out to his new friend. "Do you think you could pick out a persimmon for Santana to try? Maybe your mom or Mr. Ladd could cut it open for her."

Safira ran over to Santana, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards one of the trees. "Come on, Ms. Santa. That tree's for baking and drying. This tree over here is for eating. You can pick the one you want," she explained excitedly.

Kurt mouthed '_thank you'_ towards Santana before noticing that Rosemary had her arm linked with Mr. Ladd's and was walking through the garden with him, listening enthusiastically at his explanations of what all he and Blaine were growing – and the names of all the various flowers still in bloom. It was the perfect time to make himself scarce – and maybe, the fates willing, make things right with his boyfriend.

* * *

Kurt paused in the doorway into the kitchen, soaking everything in. The delicious aroma had assaulted him as he walked from the side of the house into the garage, making his stomach rumble in hunger. From his current spot, he admired the view of a barefoot Blaine, dressed in loose jeans and a tight white t-shirt, chopping vegetables and tossing them into a large orange soup pot. He could almost imagine this same scene, ten years into the future, in a small apartment in a large city – New York or Boston or San Francisco – where he'd be coming home from a long day at work to Blaine's welcoming arms.

The idea almost overwhelmed him. Moving as quietly as he could, Kurt crossed the kitchen and snaked his arms around Blaine's waist, sliding his hands into the front pockets of Blaine's well-worn jeans, pressing their bodies together. "Promise me you'll do the cooking when we live together?" he whispered before biting lightly on a spot where Blaine's neck and shoulder connected.

Blaine inhaled sharply, consciously placing the sharp chef's knife down on his wooden cutting board before tilting his head to once side to give Kurt more access to his skin. "Mmm … only if you keep me well supplied in cookies," he teased, rubbing his hands over the bulges Kurt's hands were making in his pockets.

"I think that can be arranged," murmured Kurt, slowly brushing kisses down Blaine's jaw.

"_And_ the dishes," Blaine added, turning in Kurt's arms, once the older boy had removed his hands. "I cook, you clean."

"Hmm … so our rule will be something like, 'he who makes the mess, doesn't have to clean it'? We might have to think that through more thoroughly." Kurt rubbed their noses together before leaning his forehead against Blaine's. "_Hi_," he breathed out softly.

"_Hi_," whispered Blaine, rising up on his toes to press his lips against Kurt's gently. After a moment, he pulled back to tuck his head into Kurt's neck, still holding him close.

Kurt stroked Blaine's back, gently rocking the two of them back and forth. "_I'm sorry_. I know I upset you with what I said this afternoon. I _never_ meant to make you feel like I considered coming over this morning stupid or a chore."

"I have to put the potatoes in the soup," Blaine commented, pulling away to do just that. Looking down at the simmering soup, Blaine scooped up handfuls of diced potato and dropped them into the bubbling liquid.

"It _hurt_, Kurt." He remarked softly focusing on his cooking, pointedly avoiding looking at Kurt. "Finn said you didn't mean it like it came out and I _knew_ that in my head. But it still hurt when you said it like that."

"I was upset," Kurt explained.

Blaine scoffed. "Yeah, I kinda got _that_ much."

"_Hobbit_." Kurt stepped up behind Blaine, reaching his arms around to embrace his boyfriend from behind, locking his arms against his body. "_Blaine_? Coach hasn't laid into me like that since my freshman year."

Kurt couldn't keep the pain from his voice. "I take my responsibilities seriously."

"I _know_ you do," Blaine assured.

"For Coach to tell me that I should consider resigning as captain because I've been distracted. _I_ _can't_." Kurt hesitated, tightening his hold on Blaine and burying his nose in Blaine's curls. "I can't even _begin_ to tell you how much that hurt to hear. The Cheerios have been my life for over three years now. It's who I am."

"I know that _too_," Blaine said quietly, turning his face so he could brush a kiss across Kurt's cheek.

Kurt allowed Blaine to place the lid on the soup pot and set a timer before he pulled him back into his arms for a third time. "You were right. Today _was_ a waste of day as far as school was concerned. We should have just stayed in bed," he murmured.

Placing his hands on either side of Blaine's face, Kurt gazed into his eyes. "I meant it when I said that waking up with you this morning was the best part of my day. _It was_. And we had some pretty intense moments today. But if I had to choose one to repeat – it would be when I realized that the warm weight pressing me into the mattress was my gorgeous boyfriend who was sound asleep, tickling my ear with his breath."

Blaine brought their lips together, deliberately taking Kurt's lower lip between his, and suckling softly as Kurt whimpered. He walked Kurt backwards into the counter so he could press their bodies together more fully, and continuing languidly to explore Kurt's mouth and lips.

When he found himself becoming overwhelmed by the heated sensations building inside him, Blaine slowly backed up, breathing heavily. "I need to finish dinner," he rasped out.

Kurt adjusted himself in his pants, smirking when he saw that Blaine was following the movement of his hand. "I thought you were coming out to dinner with us?" he remarked quietly. "In fact, I _thought_ you were coming over and spending the night with all of us."

Blaine dropped his gaze, quickly picking up a pair of pot holders so he could check the corn bread muffins baking in the oven. Stooping down, he opened the door to the oven and quickly pulled out the muffin tin, setting it down on a pair of wooden trivets next to the stove, leaving the pot holders next to the metal pan as a reminder that it was burning hot.

"Blaine?"

Picking up the lid on the soup pot, he inhaled the delicious aroma before dropping in an enormous amount of chopped kale, knowing it would cook down to nearly nothing. All of this gave him time to consider his words to Kurt.

As he opened his mouth to speak the door to the garage swung open and his grandfather, followed by Santana and Rosemary, walked into the kitchen. Kurt caught him under the elbow, and he felt more than heard, Kurt's words against his ear. "I brought back up with me. Well, more like back up insisted on tagging along. Anyway, I'd _still_ like an answer, Blaine. When you're ready."

Dropping a kiss against Blaine's temple, Kurt went to relieve Mr. Ladd of his armful of fruits and vegetables from the garden.

"**Hobbit**!" exclaimed Santana loudly, hands on her skirt-clad hips. "Did you and Hummel kiss and make up? And what's up with your disappearing act?" She cocked her head to the side, pinning Blaine with her gaze.

"I, _uh_-"

"Ignore her, Blaine," Rosemary countered, walking up to hug Blaine tightly. "We were worried is all. It smells so yummy in here. Did you make all this yourself?" She neatly slipped her arm around Blaine's waist, resting her head on his shoulder. "Your grandfather is a kick, BTW."

Blaine eyed his grandfather. "Papa? You weren't inappropriate with the girls were you?" he asked, more than a little concerned about what his grandfather might have shared, given his lack of filter that came with his fierce attitude that he was old enough to say what he wanted when he wanted.

Mr. Ladd waved off Blaine's comment, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down heavily. "Never you mind that, young man. I raised you to be a proper gentleman because that's how _I_ was raised. And if I happened to offer Miss Santana and Miss Rosemary proper dancing lessons – that's between the three of us. They might like a change from all that … _muck_ you young people call dancing these days. Dancing? **Ha**. Remove your clothing and it's baby making."

Running his hand heavily over his face, Blaine could feel Rosemary shaking in her attempt to hold in the giggles. "_Okay_, Papa. I don't think you need to worry about that with me, for the record." He guided Rosemary towards the kitchen table, pulling out her chair so she could sit, while Kurt did the same for Santana before he sat next to Mr. Ladd.

Mr. Ladd rolled his eyes at Blaine. "Of course not, boy. It's not like you and Kurt can make a baby together. I'm old, not ignorant of how things work," he grumbled.

"_Papa_!" Blaine whined in embarrassment.

"_Blaine_!" mocked Mr. Ladd in a fair impression of his grandson.

Wagging a finger at his grandfather, Blaine said in mock-seriousness, "Remember, I'll be picking out the home you'll go into one day, old man."

Without missing a beat, Mr. Ladd turned to Santana and asked, "Would you like to see Blaine's baby albums? Lots of cute pictures of naked Blaine running around."

Kurt watched in amusement as Blaine's eyes grew huge.

"Okay. Okay. You win."

Mr. Ladd folded his arms across his chest, smiling smugly at his grandson. Seeing Blaine had turned back to check on the soup, he leaned over to Santana. "Next time. Call me. I'll accidentally leave them out," he said with a wink.

Santana's smirk grew even wider.

Seeking a change of topic, Blaine looked across the kitchen at Rosemary. "I thought you had a date with Sam."

"I do," she confirmed. "You were more important."

"_Ro_," he said in disbelief.

"_Nuh uh_, Hobbit. Don't _even_ start with me, or you'll be 0 for 2 in arguments with people seated in this room." Clasping her hands in front of her, Rosemary leaned forward towards Blaine. "**_We_** were going to dinner together and then to Kurt's so **_we_** could arrive at the competition workshop together. **_You_** disappeared. Ball's in _your_ court, partner."

"Rose," cautioned Kurt.

"It's okay, Kurt," Blaine stated with a slight shake of his head. Moving the large soup pot to a cold burner and replacing the lid to keep the heat in, Blaine rounded the horseshoe counter and stood, leaning against it, close to where Rosemary was sitting.

"I don't think I can do comp," he began.

"Of course you can, Hobbit," Santana interrupted until Kurt placed a hand on her arm and shook his head.

"No, really, Santana. I don't think I have it in me. I feel like I'm barely keeping up with my school work, I'm exhausted all the time. I have responsibilities here at home." Blaine stopped, wrapping his arms around himself as if he were cold.

Biting his lower lip, he stared out the kitchen window. "Taylor, Daniel and Johnny know where I'm going to school." He heard the loud scraping sound of a chair being pushed across the floor and then found himself wrapped in Kurt's embrace.

"They're _not_ going to touch you, Blaine. I promise you," he whispered fiercely, fingers carding through Blaine's curls.

"You _can't_ promise that, Kurt. I wish to God you could, but you can't," Blaine's response was just as emphatic. "The nightmares already started again, which means I won't be getting sleep at night, which will only make me more tired." With the emotional upheaval he was feeling, Blaine wasn't surprised when Kurt's thumbs brushed away hot tears from his cheeks.

"You slept okay last night, after I got here," Kurt observed quietly.

Blaine's response was sharp. "Yeah, that _really_ worked out for us today, didn't it."

Kurt brought his face close to Blaine's, so all they could see was each other's eyes. "Our ... _issues_ today had little to do with your nightmares. My point is this: I got here at four this morning. You slept until after eight, with no nightmares. So, _yes_, I would say that worked out for you."

Blaine pulled out of their embrace, but kept a hold on Kurt's hand, leaning against the counter again. Ignoring the fact that Rosemary and Santana were learning more than he would have normally shared with either of them, he remarked glumly, "There's _no_ way my mother or your father will let us sleep together at night, just so my nightmares don't come back."

"We could ask."

"You could," came a feminine voice from the doorway leading to the rest of the house. Kurt lifted his eyes to see a petite woman with long curly hair tumbling down her back leaning against the door jamb. It was obvious that Blaine took after his mother. "The answer would be no, though."

"Hi, Mom," Blaine said softly, swiping his eyes with the back of his hand before he cross the kitchen to hug his mother. Walking her closer, he gestured to each of his friends in turn. "These are my friends from school, Rosemary Gartin and Santana Lopez." He stopped while his mother shook each of the girls' hands.

"And this is Kurt. Kurt Hummel. My boyfriend," he explained shyly.

Kurt moved around Blaine to offer his hand to Ms. Ladd, and was please when she offered him a genuine smile. He could tell, though, that behind that smile, she was carefully appraising whether he was worthy of dating her baby boy. Well, if nothing else, he knew Blaine's grandfather liked him and approved of their relationship.

"I'm glad to finally meet you, Kurt. Blaine's … mentioned you, once or twice," she said with a wry grin, tussling her son's hair.

"_Mooom_," Blaine whined, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Blaine's mom moved into the kitchen, grabbing several large bowls down from the cupboards and setting them on the counter. Breaking apart cornbread muffins into two bowls, she ladled the soup into them and then brought them over to the table, placing one in front of Mr. Ladd. Sitting in the chair that Kurt had vacated earlier, she took several bites before setting down her spoon whereupon she turned towards Blaine and commented, "It's delicious. You clearly inherited your grandmother's talent in the kitchen. Thank you for making dinner."

Blaine shrugged and looked down at the floor, uncomfortable at being the center of attention. "I just follow her recipes." Looking up at Rosemary and Santana, he added, "Would you like some? I know you're probably still going to dinner – but I made extra."

Seeing their nods, he went about filling up the bowls and passing them out, leaving a plate of the muffins in the center of the table. Still leaning against the counter with Kurt, he smirked when Kurt asked, "Aren't you having any?"

"I thought we'd share. Conserve water and all that," he teased. His attention was pulled away as Santana began coughing, and Rosemary leaned over to pat her back several times.

"Put your arms over your head, it'll help," Rosemary informed her friend, passing her a glass of water.

Once Santana had caught her breath, she stared pointedly at Blaine and Kurt. "Porcelain? Hobbit? You two need to knock it off, before I die here. Or carry a parental advisory warning about how sickeningly sweet you can be."

Rolling her eyes in mock annoyance, she looked down at her soup then back up at Blaine. "Your mom's right. This is seriously good soup, Anderson."

"Thanks," he said quietly. He allowed Kurt to feed him several bites of the warm soup before he grabbed a muffin from the table and split it in half to share with Kurt.

"So if I heard correctly," Blaine's mother began, pinning both boys with the type of stare only a parent can master, "Kurt, who I hadn't had the pleasure of meeting until this evening, spent the night in your bed last night?" It was clear from her tone that she was decidedly unhappy at this news.

Except for the scraping of Mr. Ladd's spoon across the bottom of his bowl, the room went silent.

Kurt placed their soup bowl on the counter behind him and reached to take Blaine's hand in a show of support. He could feel Blaine trembling nervously and was unsure if he should make more of that than just the anxiety of being caught by your mom doing something you shouldn't be.

Kurt was about to answer for the two of them when Blaine just barely nodded.

"And you thought I'd be _okay_ with that, Blaine?"

She was all serious, like one of those attorneys from _Law & Order_ when they were going in for the proverbial kill.

"No, ma'am. I … I knew. It's just … I _just_ wanted to sleep," Blaine answered quietly. "I texted Kurt about my nightmare and how I couldn't sleep. When he came over, I … I just really needed to sleep, Mom. I know I'm not supposed to have guests over without clearing with you."

"Kurt is hardly a _guest_, Blaine," she countered.

"I know."

**To: RoRoUrBoat**

Snap. Shit just got awkward. -Santana

Taking a deep breath, Kurt spoke up. "I'm really sorry we broke your trust. I was just really worried about Blaine. Especially after what went down yesterday at the football game. Nothing happened. We just went back to sleep," Kurt tried to school his face as he told half-truths. Nothing happened until they woke up, but that's not really what she was upset about, right?

**To: Satan'sMinion**

Do we leave? -Rosemary

Ms. Ladd raised an eyebrow at Kurt. "I appreciate your … concern - for Blaine. And we'll just have to agree to disagree on your statement that nothing happened between you."

"Ms. Ladd –"

**To: RoRoUrBoat**

Hell no. Luv watchin em squirm - S

"Kurt – I'm going to stop you right there," she interrupted. "I'm the type of person who values honesty, pretty much above everything else. I would much prefer that you tell me you screwed up and that you promise not to do it again – than lie to my face in my own house. So, again, we can agree to disagree that _nothing happened_ this morning – because, to be frank, my son's face, and his sheets, tell a _much_ different story."

**To: Satan'sMinion**

OMFG -R

**To: RoRoURBoat**

OMFG -S

**To: Satan'sMinion**

We really should excuse ourselves

**To: RoRoUrBoat**

I LOVE Hobbits mama

Slightly mollified to see both boys flush bright red, she turned her attention to Blaine. "You are fifteen, Blaine. Kurt, how old are you?

"Eighteen," he answered quickly.

Pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, she inhaled deeply. "Did you _know_ about this, Dad?"

Mr. Ladd looked unimpressed, and held his empty soup bowl out towards Blaine, asking for a refill without words.

"_Dad_?"

Once Blaine had placed the second bowl of soup in front of him, Mr. Ladd growled out, "_My_ house, _my_ rules, Olivia" by way of explanation.

**To: RoRoUrBoat**

Score one to Papa - S

Olivia Ladd slowly turned her head, glaring at her father. "My _son_, my _rules_, Dad."

**To: RoRoUrBoat**

Point to Mama - S

"Oh, _good_," Mr. Ladd commented loudly, "I do _so_ look forward to receiving a copy of these rules sometime soon. Will they been handwritten or typed?" Looking up to wink at Blaine and Kurt, he began scooping large spoonfuls of soup into his mouth.

"Dad! This isn't helping."

**To: RoRoUrBoat**

Papa -S

Setting his spoon down with a clatter, Mr. Ladd rotated in his seat to face his daughter. "The boy and I take care of each other. If you don't like how we do it, then _what_ do you propose to do about it, hire a babysitter?"

**To: RoRoUrBoat**

Papa again -S

"I wouldn't know which one of you to hire one for," she huffed, shaking her head. Resting her head in one hand, she waved the other one towards her father. "What happened to your house rule about unmarried couples not sharing the same bed, Dad?"

Mr. Ladd tilted his head the same direction as his daughter's. "_Hmmm_, yes I _did_ have that rule. And despite our best efforts, _you_ still managed to find yourself pregnant with Cooper _before_ you married their dad. And as I was saying earlier, I'm fairly confident that neither Blaine nor Kurt will be impregnating each other."

**To:RoRoUrBoat**

FUUUUCK. Game Set Match goes to Mr. Ladd -S

Snorting behind her hand, Rosemary stood up whispering, "_Bathroom_?" to Blaine. Once he responded with directions, she yanked Santana out of her seat and the two of them escaped the awkward tension in the kitchen, giggling down the hallway as they went.

Olivia glared at her father then turned her attention back to the boys. "Sit," she directed, having Kurt and Blaine take the seats the girls had just vacated. It didn't escape her notice that Blaine kept a tight grip on Kurt's hand through all of this.

"We're not talking about the mistakes of _my_ past, we're talking about my **fifteen** year old son and his _adult_ boyfriend." Seeing Blaine about to interrupt, Olivia cut him off. "No, you _need_ to listen to what I'm saying and not jump to defend your actions. No more sleepovers. Period. Kurt, you are welcome to come over if I'm home or my father, but you and Blaine are not to spend time by yourselves in this house. Blaine, you are not to go over to Kurt's house if his parents aren't home."

"Yes, Ma'am." Blaine stared at his hand clasped in Kurt's as his mother laid down her expectations.

"School night curfew is 9pm. Friday and Saturday nights, it's midnight. And I'm willing to negotiate, depending on what your plans might be."

"Yes, Ma'am," came the whispered reply.

"Blaine? Look at me, please," Olivia asked quietly. When he finally met her gaze, she added, "You're too young to be sexual active."

"_Mom_-" protested Blaine who was becoming frustrated with his mother and her assumptions.

"I _mean_ it, Blaine," she reiterated.

He stood up suddenly, causing the kitchen chair to crash nosily into the cabinets behind him. Flinging his arms out, just barely missing smacking Kurt upside his head, Blaine shouted, "We aren't having sex." This time his flush was more due to anger than embarrassment.

"_Blaine_-" Kurt tried to catch Blaine's attention, gently tugging on his t-shirt.

"Blaine Devon Anderson!" Olivia went to stand, but was stopped by her father's hand on her shoulder, pressing her down into her chair.

"Would you **stop** it, Mom. Just stop and _listen_ to me for once," still yelling at his mother, Blaine fought hard to calm down enough to force the words out past his tight throat.

"Kurt and I aren't having sex. Not like _that_," he rasped. "Yeah, we were messing around and yeah, I get that you don't want me to be doing that but it's not gonna stop." He saw the flash of anger in his mother's eyes and tried to explain further, "I'm _just_ being honest. Besides … you don't understand."

Searching for the words to explain the impact their relationship was having on him, Blaine stared up at the top of the china cabinet behind his grandfather – a part of his mind thinking that it had been a while since he'd taken everything down and dusted up there. Finally, he met his mother's gaze again. "Kurt makes me feel good," he said, trying emphasize with his tone the significance of this comment.

"Of course he does," Olivia countered cynically.

"_Dammit_, mom. You asked _me_ to listen, can't you give me the same courtesy?" Realizing he was beginning to raise his voice again, Blaine stopped and tried to explain in a different way. "I don't feel … **_damaged_** … when I'm with him. He doesn't flinch when he sees my scars and bruises." A few tears escaped and rolled down his face, but Blaine made no move to wipe them away. "And sometimes … sometimes when we're together … I actually forget I have them," he concluded, his voice barely above a whisper.

Unable to stop himself, Kurt stood up and cupped Blaine's cheek with the palm of his hand. Once Blaine was really seeing him, Kurt voiced his belief. "You're beautiful, baby. All of you." Leaning forward, he kissed Blaine's lips gently, his concern only for the well-being of the boy who held his heart.

"Come sit back down, Hobbit," Kurt encouraged quietly. "You need to tell your mom about yesterday." Seeing the panic begin to rise in Blaine, he reminded him, "I'm sitting right next to you. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you. I know you don't believe me, but I need you to try to hang on to that hope, baby."

Once Blaine was back at the table, Kurt scooted closer so he could wrap his arm around Blaine, holding him close. He looked over at Blaine's mom, and met her gaze head on. "There was an incident at the football game yesterday afternoon."

"I thought you just got back from cheering," Olivia stated, clearly confused.

"We did. Freemont High School doesn't have stadium lights, so when we play there, the games are held earlier in the day and JV plays the day before Varsity. We, the Varsity squad, went to cheer on the JV team. We were in the stands yesterday. Anyway, at half-time, Blaine went to get some food with my brother, Finn and Sam. That's when things kinda went sideways."

As the memories flashed through his mind, Blaine felt himself begin to tremble. It wasn't something he could control. Not even with Kurt holding him tight against his body. Throat tight, Blaine managed to force out, "I ran into Taylor and Daniel and Johnny."

"What?" Olivia paled as her son mentioned the names of the three boys who tried to kill her son and got away with it.

Blaine continued shakily, "I was waiting for Sam when they … walked up and said … some things. About not learning my l. . Asking if I think of them when I see my scar."

"Son of a bitch," spat Blaine's mother.

Quiet for several moments, Blaine finally added, "Sam almost broke his hand taking care of Taylor for me. And my friend Dave ... made sure they couldn't get to me. _That's_ what triggered my nightmares last night. _That's_ why Kurt came over."

Raising his eyes to meet his mother's gaze, Blaine's tone took on an air of pleading. "I was _actually_ able to fall back asleep. Do you _get_ why that's important?"

"Yes, but-" As soon as she uttered the second word, Olivia watched as Blaine's face filled with more pain that she'd seen since those first few weeks in the hospital, after he'd been brought out of his medically induced coma.

"I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment," Blaine choked out. Shoving himself backwards, he was around the table and out the door leading to the garage before anyone else could react.

Mr. Ladd cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. "I'll go talk to the boy. Olivia? I think Kurt and the girls should talk to you about why they're here tonight. Because despite my memory problems of late, I'm pretty sure Blaine wasn't planning on coming home until tomorrow afternoon." He stood up slowly, his back cracking with the effort.

"This cheerleading thing he's doing … it's been good for him, Liv. Really good."

Reaching the door, he turned the knob and pulled it open. "Oh, and Liv?" Mr. Ladd added, looking over his shoulder, "as good as cheerleading has been … Kurt's been even better for Blaine. Thought you should know. Now, play nice kids," he teased gently, carefully closing the door behind him.

Olivia Ladd looked across the table at her son's first boyfriend and offered a small smile. "So, Kurt, what would you like to tell me about yourself?"

"I'm head over heels in love with your son," Kurt answered honestly.

"That's a good place to start," Olivia said with a chuckle. "What else?"

* * *

**EndNote:** _I'm pretty sure Blaine's crappy couple of days are about to end. But haven't we all been there? Just wanting to crawl into bed, pull the covers up and sleep. And Blaine's mom - she's doing her best trying to raise her son as a single parent who is also caring for her elderly father. She's certainly not going to make it easy for the boys to get their sexy groove on - but that doesn't mean they won't try anyway. Thank you for reading!_


	16. Coming Home

**_A/N:_**_ Hi! *waves pom poms*. Thank you so much for your patience while I figure out where and when to carve writing time in my busy two full time jobs life. We're at 9000+ words on this portion of the story. Again, thanks to those of you who have hit follow & favorite & a special thank you to those of you who have been so kind in your written reviews. It gives me a boost of encouragement to continue writing and leave the laundry for later when I realize I'm writing for other people's enjoyment too. My personal cheerleader, Billi, has intimated that this chapter should come with an angst warning (although not in those exact words, but that's what I took away from her comments). By now, I'm sure, you've figured out that angst seems to lead to smut in my world. _

**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is rated M for adult language and sexual situations. I recommend that you have a fan and iced beverage of your choosing prior to reading this chapter - or at least the latter portion of the story._

**_Disclaimer:_**_I do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed. (Maybe a little tired, worn out...but unharmed)_

* * *

**Chapter 16: Coming Home**

The classroom was dark as the biology students watched an educational video detailing the process of cell division, mitosis and meiosis. Before starting the video, their teacher had distributed a set of pens that had a small light at the end, allowing the user to take notes in the dark. Sitting near the back, Santana, and Sage were taking detailed notes while keeping an eye on Blaine whose head rested in his palm. In Sage's estimation, Blaine had fallen asleep about ten minutes into the video.

"Puckerman!" Their teacher, sitting on the other side of the room at her desk, grading their latest exam, called out. "Kindly put your cell phone away and focus on the film, thank you. You will be having a test on the information on Friday."

Everyone glanced over to Puck who had flipped his phone over so the screen light wasn't shining as brightly. "I wasn't on my phone," he protested.

"Then we have even bigger problems, Noah," the biology teacher drawled, speaking over the film, "because your crotch is glowing. Are you so awesome that your crotch glows, Noah? You might want to see a doctor about that – it isn't … normal," she teased with a hint of reproach.

The entire class burst out laughing at Puckerman's expense. It was his fault. Everyone knew that Ms. Bedford mostly turned a blind eye to student phone use – as long as you were respectful and didn't toss an attitude when she asked you to put it away.

Puck shoved his phone into his pocket, sliding down into his seat. Why take notes when you knew your friends were going to take better notes than you ever could? And really, when was he ever going to use this information after he passed (hopefully) this class? Exactly. Staring off into a dark corner, Puck used the time to mentally review the new football plays Coach Beiste had given them at Monday's practice.

Reaching behind her, Santana tugged her Cheerio jacket off the back of her chair. Folding it carefully into a pillow, she placed it in front of Blaine, easing the sophomore's head down. It had been over a week since the night she, Rose, and Kurt had gone over to Blaine's house and since then it was crystal clear that things weren't okay with him. He tried to hide the dark circles under his eyes with concealer – concealer that he sweated off during practice. It was clear to Santana that he'd also lost weight – weight his hobbit sized frame couldn't afford to give up.

Worse, Blaine wouldn't talk to anyone about what was going on. She and Rose had both tried, separately and together, but he avoided eye contact and shrugged, usually mumbling, "It's fine. I'll be fine." Even Kurt had had no luck breaking through the walls Blaine had tossed up.

One thing was for certain – his withdrawal from his friends hadn't impacted his performance on the Cheerios. He showed up early to every practice, worked his adorable ass off, and was showing natural leadership skills, breaking down the difficult tumbling routine Sam had choreographed for the homecoming rally and game into manageable chunks. Without being asked, he'd stayed late three times to help some of the less-gymnastically inclined Cheerios master difficult skills.

She noticed that Sage, sitting on the other side of Blaine, had reached her left hand over and was gently running her fingers through the short dark hairs at Blaine's neck while continuing to take notes. They were all worried about him, and if Blaine managed to catch a brief power nap during biology, then all the better for him.

It was a few minutes later when Santana's attention was drawn by the change in Blaine's breathing. The slow, deep breaths had shifted to shorter bursts of air, and Blaine was beginning to stir. At first the noise of the film covered the pain-filled whimpers, but then, just as Santana's eyes met Sage's, Blaine called out, "**No**! No, _please_ **don't**."

"Blaine?" called their teacher, slowly raising from her desk.

Sage gripped his arm, shaking him gently, "Hobbit? Wake up time," she called softly.

"It's okay, Ms. Bedford," Santana called out.

It happened fast.

Blaine's head shot up, and he wrenched his arm away from Sage. "**Leave me alone**!" he yelled out, causing the class to turn back to see what was happening. When Santana placed her hand on his other arm, Blaine flinched away so hard he fell out of his seat, sliding himself backwards on his butt until his back hit the supply cabinets. "_Please_," he cried out shakily, _"please don't hurt me_."

Ms. Bedford snapped on the lights, the film forgotten in the chaos. Santana and Sage were already out of their seats, moving slowly towards Blaine who had curled up in a ball on the floor. "Girls?"

Santana kept her eyes on Blaine. "Hobbit? It's Santana. No one is going to hurt you. Do you know where you are?" She crept forward, kneeling next to him.

"He's still asleep," Sage commented quietly.

"_What_?" Santana glanced up at her friend.

"He's sleeping. It's a night terror. Maggie has them all the time," she explained, referring to her youngest sister who was three. Sage glanced over at Ms. Bedford who had joined them. "It's not quite a nightmare. He's in this weird state where it looks like he's awake, but he's really asleep. When we touch Maggie when she's having them, she screams for the next twenty minutes, passes out, and will wake up an hour later with no memory of anything."

"So do we leave him on the floor?" asked Santana.

Ms. Bedford sighed. "No, I don't think that's going to work." Glancing over her shoulder at the class, she narrowed her eyes. "Those videos get deleted now. If I find one instance of anything from this class making it on social media – and I **will** find out – those students involved Will. Not. Pass. This. Class. Choose wisely. Puck? Could you come here for a moment?"

When Puck joined them, Ms. Bedford spoke softly. "Noah, do you think you can pick up Blaine and carry him to the health office? If Sage is correct that he's not awake, I'm thinking he might fight you a bit."

"Yeah, no problem. He's kinda on the small side for a guy." He winked at Santana, knowing exactly what inappropriate thought had just traveled through her mind.

"Okay, then I'll call down to let them know you're on your way. Santana, would you please go with them. Sage, why don't you collect Blaine's things and you can take them down to the health office." Ms. Bedford turned back to the class. "Alrighty folks, let's see how much you retained from our visual text – pop quiz time. Please take out a piece of binder paper, a pencil, and clear everything else off your desks."

The groans and general noise of the class doing as instructed covered Puck's conversation with Santana. "Get the door. I'm going to scoop and bolt. Less attention that way." Once Santana reached the classroom door, Puck leaned in close to Blaine, "Dude, it's Puckerman. I'm sorry if this freaks you out."

With that said, Puck grabbed Blaine's arm and tugged him into a sitting position before heaving the sophomore over his shoulder, striding quickly towards the door as he ignored Blaine's frantic pleas to be left alone.

* * *

As soon as Santana spotted Blaine moving through the lunch crowd, she waved him over, patting the empty spot next to her at the table where many of the Cheerios and the football players sat. It wasn't an invitation, more of a command to come sit within the bubble of safety she could provide. Despite Ms. Bedford's efforts, word had spread like a wild fire through McKinley about 'that new kid's meltdown' in science class.

Chewing worriedly on his bottom lip, Blaine slid next to her, comforted by the arm she wrapped around his shoulders. She raised her eyebrows, the only outward sign that she wanted to know how he was holding up. In response, Blaine dropped his head to her shoulder.

"Everyone _knows_," he murmured. "It's embarrassing."

"I'm sorry, B," Santana offered, hugging just a bit tighter. "On a brighter note, it will only be this way until someone else makes a bigger spectacle of themselves. Maybe we could arrange a bon fire with all those hideous sweaters that Glee girl Rachel wears. Call it community service?"

Blaine snorted. "It's not nice to pick on other people, Santana. Even if those sweaters are wretched."

Kurt picked that moment to plop down next to Blaine, brushing his lips quickly across the sophomore's cheek. "Berry's sweaters? Fashion crime of the millennium," he replied, pulling out his insulated lunch bag and offering Blaine the other half of his roasted turkey and arugula sandwich made on whole wheat flat bread. "I got a milder gouda, since you said the other one was too smoky."

Blaine waved away the food. "No thanks. Not hungry," he mumbled.

"_Blaine_, you have to eat," urged Kurt. Sneaking his other hand under the table, Kurt intertwined his fingers with Blaine's, squeezing softly as he kept their hands on his thigh.

Shrugging, Blaine lifted his head off of Santana's shoulder, glancing in Kurt's direction but failing to meet the other boy's eyes. "I know. I'm just not hungry. I …" he hesitated, looking out at the crowded lunchroom, aware of how many students were glancing in his direction, nudging their friends and not-so-subtly laughing. Sighing deeply, he stared at the cafeteria table. "I appreciate it. You. I appreciate your concern."

"_Hobbit_," Kurt whispered.

"I _**can't**_," Blaine whispered back fiercely. "Just drop it."

Leaning closer, Kurt kept his hold tight on Blaine's hand. "Look at me … _please_," he pleaded quietly. He waited for Blaine to slowly turn and meet his gaze. "I'm worried. Outside of what happened in your class today, B. I'm worried about you. And I'd like to talk to you about it. And I heard you – not here. Not right now." Kurt stared into Blaine's eyes, willing the younger boy to understand how concerned he was. "I love you," he concluded.

Wetting his dry lips, Blaine offered a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I know. Love you too."

Santana rolled her eyes affectionately at the boys before looking at the rest of their lunch crew. "Soooo … changing the subject, has a decision been made regarding where we're eating before the Homecoming dance on Saturday? Because I say it's a no-go to Breadstix. Hashtag sorry, not sorry. Auntie Tana wants something special – and not the $8.99 all you can eat kind of special."

Sage threw a baby carrot at Santana which the Latina quickly batted away. "So where _do_ you want to go, then?"

Shrugging, Santana looked pointedly at Sage. "Dunno. _You_ asked _me_ to the dance, doesn't that make it _your_ decision? I'm just sayin' I'd rather not eat another questionable meal loaded with carbs."

Kurt looked around Blaine at Santana. "Wait. You're going _with_ Sage? To the Homecoming dance?" It was clear he was surprised by this information.

"Yeah," answered Santana in an amused tone. Dusting her fingernails against her shoulder, she held them out and admired her manicure before catching Sage's eye and winking. "We're gonna have a blast. And neither one of us feels like being groped by some sweaty guy that we have no interest in who only asked us because a) he thinks he can 'convert' us to the other team or b) he has some freak fantasy about what it'd be like to be with a cheerleader."

"So, just to clarify, you're going as friends? Or are you _more_ than friends?" Kurt asked curiosity getting the better of him. And he knew the question of how close Sage and Santana were was on everyone's minds, although only Kurt was brave enough to voice it.

Santana offered up a knowing smile. "Yes."

"Sure. Exactly," replied Sage with her own grin. "BTW, what time are you, Hobbit, and Sam coming to pick us up? Satan's coming over to our house to get ready."

Kurt kicked Sam under the table to draw his attention away from Rosemary. "What time are we going to pick up the girls, White Chocolate? 5:30? Dance starts at 8."

Nodding, Sam said, "Yeah. 5:30 sounds good. The girls' parents can take a zillion pictures of all of us and then we can go." Running his fingers through his blonde hair, Sam asked, "What about that new Japanese restaurant that just opened in the strip mall down by the cemetery? Wanna go there for dinner?" While everyone else began to nod in agreement, Santana wasn't ready to commit to that idea yet. "I don't do raw fish, Evans," she answered heatedly.

Blaine elbowed her lightly. "There's more to Japanese food than raw fish. You might like the tempura or the teriyaki chicken. They'll even give you a fork to use instead of chopsticks – if you can manage to ask nicely. I can text you so you remember what to order," he explained quietly.

"Why bother?" she replied, waving away his suggestion. "You can just tell me at the restaurant."

"I won't be there," Blaine admitted with a sigh.

Although the cafeteria remained noisy, the silence at their lunch table was deafening. Blaine could feel everyone's eyes on him as he gazed at the table top.

In stereo, Santana and Kurt blurted, "Why the hell not?"

Withdrawing his hand from Kurt's, Blaine silently played with his cuticles as he gathered up the courage to explain. "Because until two minutes ago, I didn't _know_ I was going to the Homecoming dance. I made other plans."

Kurt was shaking his head in disbelief. "_But_ … but we talked about the dance," he protested.

Still staring at his hands, Blaine shook his head. "No, _you_ talked about the dance. _You_ talked about the dance with _Sam_ and with _Santana_ … and with _Finn_. And I was there,_ in the room_, all of those times. You talked about how excited you were to go. But not once did you ever _ask_." Blaine's voice began to shake with emotion. "You never asked if I was going. You never asked if I _wanted_ to go. You didn't **_ask_**," he explained, his throat tight.

"I just … I just assumed. 'Cause we're dating," Kurt admitted, trying to get Blaine to meet his gaze.

"And I _get_ that. I _really_ do, Kurt," Blaine emphasized, staring out blankly at some spot between Sage and Sam. "But as my boyfriend … I just assumed you would remember … why I _can't_ go to a dance. Not _'I can't go to dance with you'_. I can't go to a dance. Period."

He swiped at the damn tears that had started to fall without his permission. "Because the last time I did, it nearly cost me my life. And now, instead of just having nightmares at night, when I'm sleeping, I'm _fucking_ having them during class."

Shaking with the pent up emotions he'd been fighting to keep in check for weeks now, Blaine stood up and climbed over the bench he'd been sitting on. Kurt grabbed at his wrist, trying to pull him back to the table. Blaine hesitated, focusing on his breathing until he felt a little calmer, a little more on control.

Refusing to sit back down, Blaine lifted a hand and squeezed Kurt's shoulder. "I know it's late notice," he murmured, voice cracking, "but if you _wanted_ to ask someone else to go with you-"

"I don't, Blaine," Kurt insisted fiercely.

"I'd be okay with it," Blaine continued without stopping. "You shouldn't have to miss out on the Homecoming dance your senior year because of my stupid issues."

"**Dammit, Anderson**!" Kurt scrambled up so he could stand right in front of Blaine, almost nose to nose. "I _apologized_. I thought we were past _that_," he whispered, referring to their spat almost two weeks prior.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Blaine sighed. "Yeah, we are. Well, anyway … if you _want_ to go to the dance, _go_. Seriously. _Go_. I'm okay with you going with someone else. Just … no kissing or other things that only I get to do with you … or to you," his teasing falling flat, as his heart wasn't into it. "Then, Sunday afternoon, maybe we can hang out and watch a movie or something."

"Blaine, I'm not going to the dance without you," Kurt began.

Frustrated, Blaine threw out his arms, almost shouting. "**I can't** **go**, Kurt."

"_Shhh_. _Listen_ to me. Okay? Just listen to what I'm saying," Kurt replied calmly. "I'm not going to the Homecoming dance without you. _You're_ the one I want to be with. Dance with. And if you aren't going to be there – then neither am I. We'll find something else to do that night. And it will be just as memorable – because I'll be with you."

Uncaring that they were in the middle of the cafeteria during the lunch period, Kurt leaned down to claim Blaine's lips in a slow kiss. When he finally pulled back, he looked out at the student body caught staring and narrowed his eyes. "You all just need to deal with yourselves," he called out confidently, all but dared someone to make a comment.

When everyone went back to eating, Kurt allowed his attention to drift back to Blaine. "Come sit."

"I need to go and find Ms. Bedford. I'll be at practice."

"I still want to talk with you. After practice?"

Blaine chewed on his lower lip again. "If I get permission to come over for dinner, could we go to _your_ house to talk? I … I don't really want to go to my house to talk. Not with Mom around. Will your dad be there?"

"I'll have him call your mom and ask if you can come over for dinner."

"He'd do that?" asked Blaine in surprise.

Kurt looked incredulous. "_Of course_. He loves you. Well, when you're wearing clothes. Me? Well, you're well acquainted with _my_ preferences."

"You _flirting_ with me, _Captain_?"

"Damn straight, Hobbit. You do possess the best ass on the squad – I know, I've checked them all out. _Research_."

"_Dork_," Blaine rolled his eyes.

"Got you to smile. Go. Tell Bedford I said 'hi'. See you at practice," Kurt said, tucking a stray curl behind Blaine's ear.

After another, briefer, kiss, Blaine left the cafeteria. Kurt rejoined his friends, banging his head heavily on the table several times. "I feel like the world's biggest loser boyfriend. How the _fuck_ did I not think that he might have a problem going to the dance?"

Rosemary reached across the table, sliding her hand between the table and Kurt's forehead. "Stop it, Porcelain. We all know Hobbit's history-"

"And none of us thought about it either," Sage continued.

"So make it up to him," Rosemary concluded.

Sitting up, Kurt looked around at his closest friends. "How? I mean, as amazing as Hallmark is, I doubt even they carry a 'Sorry your boyfriend was a self-absorbed ass' card," he remarked glumly.

"Pretty sure I've bought that card before," Sam snorted. "Quite possibly more than once. But I think you're right. This calls for a little bit more … _effort_." He wrapped an arm around Rosemary's shoulders, pulling her against his chest. "More than just coffee or flowers or a card."

"Or all three of those things," added Sage. "I don't know, I'm thinking this is more of a '_sacrifice yourself on the altar of dignity_' time."

Finn, who had quietly been eating his lunch, and then the remainder of Kurt's lunch, looked up from the food. "Where's that from?"

"_10 Things I Hate About You_. Remember English class last year? _Taming of the Shrew_? Then we watched the film about the crazy dad and his daughters," Sage prompted.

"Oh, yeah," Finn replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist. Kurt threw a napkin in his direction, which Finn studiously ignored. "Like, it had the chick from those dancing movies. The one who got wasted at the party and gets the guitar in the end."

"Julia Stiles? Yeah, that's the film."

Chewing on some Cheetos, Finn shrugged. "I don't know if you need to kill a small animal or anything. And I guess you could sing to him with the marching band playing and you dancing across the gym or something." Seeing the looks of confusion from some of his friends, he added, "That's what the dude did in the movie. He sang to the girl while she was at soccer practice. Then, later on when he's in detention, she flashes the soccer coach so he can sneak out the window."

"Of course you remember that part," Kurt grumbled drawing a smack upside the head from Santana.

Clearing his throat, Finn offered. "A massage." Seeing the look of surprise on Kurt's face, he added quickly, "No, dude, seriously. You give great massages. You're super busy with everything. I think Blaine might want some time with you. I mean, that's what a girl would want. Not that Blaine's a girl. I know he's not. I'm just … " Finn started to flush as he struggled to find the words to articulate his ideas, not wanting to offend or anger his step-brother.

Kurt smiled at his brother. "Stop, Huckleberry," he teased gently, using the name the cheerleaders had tagged Finn with their freshman year. "It's fine. I get what you're saying and I think it's an idea with merit. But I'm not sure dad and your mom would appreciate the sight of Blaine splayed out on the floor, shirtless, with me on top, digging my fingers into his back muscles."

Santana choked on her juice. "Holy crap, stop it Porcelain," she forced out between coughing fits, "you're turning me on with that image." She closed her eyes, and a soft smile spread across her lips.

"Shut up, Satan," Kurt answered without heat.

"They don't care when it's me," Finn argued.

Sam reached over to squeeze Finn's shoulder. "I think that's because your massages don't end with the two of you naked, begging the other to help you come."

A whimper escaped Santana.

"I'm pretty sure if _that_ was the case," continued Sam matter-of-factly, "Burt and Carole would have major issues with Kurt giving you a massage.

Finn's mouth gaped like a fish as he processed everything Sam had said. "Oh," was all he could articulate.

The bell signaling the end of lunch rang shrilly, causing the noise level to jump as the students began to shrug on their bags and throw away their trash. Linking pinkies with Santana, Sage leaned in to whisper something in the Latina girl's ear and they both walked away in the direction opposite of their after lunch classes.

Kurt and Sam stared after them. "I don't wanna know. Not gonna ask," commented Kurt.

"So, do you know what you're going to do?" asked Sam as they moved towards the exit, seamlessly entering the flow of traffic.

Glancing over at Sam, Kurt nodded. "Yeah. I do. Thanks."

"See you at practice."

"Later."

* * *

It was the last practice before the Homecoming rally tomorrow and every member of McKinley High School's cheerleading squad was in attendance. Santana, Kurt, and Quinn with the help of Sam and Mike had choreographed a dynamic routine that would have everyone on their feet. If they could pull it off.

There were approximately 50 students on the combined varsity and junior varsity squads, all of whom needed to know exactly where to be, when to be there, and be able to execute this– all so the complicated tumbling passes wouldn't end with people slamming in to each other or worse.

Unhappy with what he was seeing, Kurt paused the music, calling out, "Cheerios, attention!" As a unit, everyone tugged down their t-shirts and faced Kurt, feet spread shoulder width apart, hands on the small of their backs.

"Look, I'm telling you now, I'll hold us all night until we get this right, people," he said, voiced raised. He really didn't want to do that. Kurt had plans that involved pizza, snuggling, and his curly-haired boyfriend. Which he'd sacrifice in place of the squads looking like crap at tomorrow's rally.

"JV, your showcase routine looks great. Varsity your showcase routine looks great. But our combined routines are a giant hole of suckage right now. So we're gonna clean up that first 48 second intro –by counts. You cannot depend on the music to know where you're supposed to be. Show faces on, people. Take your first mark."

While everyone else took their positions, Santana jogged over to the bleachers and climbed up to stand next to Kurt. "Watch the left side," Kurt murmured. "Hot mess. I'm not sure where to start to untangle the knot."

"Anyone in particular?" Santana asked.

"Don't want to spoil it. Just watch," Kurt said with a smirk. Looking out at everyone, he called out, "Ready?"

"**OKAY**!" shouted the cheerleaders.

Kurt hesitated as he listened to the music in his head, when it reached the right spot he yelled, "Five. Six. Seven. Eight. GO! One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight." Continuing for five more counts of eight, he stopped when he reached the portion where the Varsity team cleared the floor for the JV team's spotlight routine. Looking over at Santana, he raised his eyebrows. "So?"

Wiping her hand down her face, Santana shook her head. "Yeah. Okay. I'm gonna borrow a few people and we're gonna hash this out in the small gym," she said coldly.

"No blood, Santana," Kurt teased.

"_Um_, we're performing _tomorrow_. If they haven't gotten their _shit_ _together_ by now, then a little blood may be called for," she tossed over her shoulder.

Stepping down from the bleachers, she yelled out, "Hobbit! White Chocolate! Chitty Chitty Chang Chang! Fabray and I will be needing your assistance in the small gym. Meet us there in three." Unconcerned about their following directions, Santana motioned for Fabray to follow her as she walked towards the struggling students. Pointing a long, manicured fingernail at each cheerleader she judged less than perfect, she beckoned once and led the procession out of the large gym.

"Okay, then. Let's work on the closing portion of the routine. Do your best visualizing where the missing folks should be. By counts. Ready?"

"**OKAY**!"

* * *

"Yeah. Uh huh. Okay, that sounds perfect. We'll see you then." Sam swiped a finger across his phone, ending the call and leaned between the front and passenger seats so Kurt could hear him better. "Your dad's gonna pick up the pizzas. Said he'd be home around 6:15. And asked me to tell you that he trusts you to do the right thing when it comes to Blaine being in the house." Laughing lightly, Sam slipped back into his seat.

"But you and Finn will be home," sputtered Blaine.

Sam waved away the comment. "I'll be upstairs, in my room, listening to music while completing my physics homework. Y'all can do whatever you want after I take my shower. I'll see you for dinner." Meeting Kurt's eyes in the rear view mirror, Sam smiled and winked.

"_Saaam_," whined Blaine. "It's not like that."

"Whatever, Hobbit. No judgment. I just think that Captain Hummel might owe you a '_personal_' thank you since you were the one who was finally able to get those last two freshman girls through the tumbling passes. If you hadn't, we'd all still be at practice. As it is, we have just under two hours of blissful peace at home, no megaphones, wearing comfy sweatpants, relaxing. That's gold, Blaine."

Closing his eyes and settling back, Sam smirked. "I'm so exhausted at this point that _I'd_ almost be willing to offer my personal thanks to you for getting us through practice."

Kurt stepped on the brake pedal more firmly than needed. "_He's mine_, Evans," he growled. "Keep your hands, mouth and dick to yourself."

Sam exploded in laughter. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Porcelain. I'm quite happy with Rosemary. Although," he paused, "if you ever need to make Kurt jealous, Blaine … _call me_." He pantomimed using a phone while Kurt used a free hand to make an obscene finger gesture towards Sam.

Looking between Kurt and Sam, Blaine's grin grew wider. "Okay, Sam. I'll keep you in mind. You know, if Kurt can't keep me _satisfied_," he teased.

Pulling in to his driveway, Kurt turned off the engine and twisted in his seat, glaring at Blaine. "Go shower, Sam. I'm … gonna need a few minutes," he said softly, voice dropping in timbre.

They stayed quiet, listening to Sam laugh all the way into the house. When the front door shut, Kurt undid his seatbelt and Blaine's before reaching out a hand to grab a fistful of Blaine's curls. "Do you feel … _under_-satisfied, Blaine?" he whispered, tracing Blaine's lips with a finger from his free hand. "Do I _not_ meet your needs – _all_ your needs? Talk to me, baby." Kurt's seductive voice wrapped around Blaine.

Blaine's breathing began to speed up. "K. Kurt, I was just _teasing_ you and you know that." Eyes fluttering shut, Blaine attempted to capture Kurt's finger with his mouth.

"_Uh huh_." Kurt's warm breath was right next to Blaine's ear. "Just _teasing_. I'd like to teach you what _I_ know about teasing … right here. Right now," he brushed his lips against Blaine's, kissing his boyfriend until Blaine tried to deepen the kiss. Pulling away, he shook his head, although Blaine couldn't see it with his eyes shut.

"_Uh uh_. _You_ tried to make me jealous with thoughts of you and Sam … _together_. _Fuck_, Hobbit. Did you think there wouldn't be _consequences_ to that?" Whatever Kurt was going to say after that was cut off by his deep groan as Blaine placed a hand between Kurt's legs.

Blaine ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of Kurt's mouth. "_Counted on it_," he managed to get out before he claimed Kurt's mouth. Both of them moaned at the contact. Since the night Kurt had met Blaine's mom they hadn't had any time alone. Not with school and cheer, Homecoming preparations and the new rules about always needing an adult home.

Wrenching his mouth away from Kurt's, Blaine fought to catch his breath. "_Please_ tell me Sam's done with his shower. 'Cause I _need_ you. _So_ much. And I _really_ don't need Finn or Puck finding us in your driveway. Can we please go shower? You can tease me or punish me or thank me," Blaine ran his teeth up the side of Kurt's neck while pressing harder against Kurt's erection. "Or thank me by punishing me by teasing me. Fucking don't care. Just want you."

"I missed you too," Kurt murmured.

When they both stood outside the car with their bags, Blaine nudged Kurt with his elbow. "I promise, Mr. Captain, sir, that if you choose to suck me off in the shower, that I'll only picture _your_ lips wrapped around my hard cock. No one else's."

"Ass!" Kurt exclaimed, shoving Blaine away playfully.

Smirking, Blain ran his hands over his ass. "You love it."

"I'm gonna love turning you over my knee and turning that ass the color of your uniform, Blaine."

Blaine flushed pink. Stepping up the Kurt, he whispered, "Don't make promises you don't intend to keep … _Captain_." Seeing Kurt's eyes flare with desire, Blaine spun and raced up the steps to Kurt's house, happily anticipating what would happen when Kurt caught up with him.

* * *

Kurt followed the trail of clothes Blaine had left behind him, from the top of the stairs all the way across his bedroom into the bathroom. It was there he found Blaine already beneath the hot spray of water, bent over and shaking his ass. "I've been a naughty Cheerio, _Captain_," he teased breathily. "What are you going to do about it?"

Uncaring that all he had managed to remove were his shoes and socks, Kurt threw his cell phone onto the bathroom counter and, fully clothed, joined Blaine in the shower. Palming Blaine's ass for a moment, Kurt didn't warn him before dropping three quick slaps to the firm flesh, watching with pleasure as it began to flush pink.

"_Fuuuck_," moaned Blaine. "Please, _sir_, can I have another?" Blaine slid his hand down to wrap tightly around his hard cock.

Kurt moved to stand behind Blaine, pressing his crotch hard into Blaine, knowing his clothing would be rough against Blaine's naked skin. "_Like_ that, Hobbit?" Working quickly to unbutton his shirt, Kurt was finally able to slide it down his arms and throw it over the curtain where it landed on the floor with a loud slap.

Tugging on Blaine's hair, Kurt pulled the shorter boy up and backed him into the cold tile wall. "How's that feel on your ass? I'd spank you more for being such a naughty boy, but you like it too much," Kurt growled.

Blaine pouted. "_Please_, Captain?" he begged quietly, biting his lower lip. "I've been ever so bad. I thought about someone else wrapping his lips around my cock." Reaching out, Blaine took Kurt's hand and wrapped it around his cock, sliding it slowly down and up. Using his other hand, Blaine pulled Kurt's head down to his own, licking across Kurt's plump lips. "I _need_ you … to _remind_ me … that I'm _only_ yours," he croaked out.

Without saying a word, Kurt slowly pushed on Blaine's shoulders until he knelt down in front of Kurt. Blaine concentrated on removing Kurt's belt and opening his tight jeans, tugging them down just enough to free Kurt's erection from its confinement. "What do you want me to do, _Captain_? Purred Blaine from his knees.

"Don't fuck around, Hobbit. I _know_ what you want," Kurt smirked, taking the shower gel slowly washing the portion of his body that was unclothed. "Make it good, baby and I'll make it so good for you," he promised.

Blaine dropped a tiny kiss Kurt's cock before running his tongue around the head. Carefully he took Kurt deep inside his throat, swallowing and sucking, knowing that because it had been so long for both of them, Kurt wouldn't last very long at all. On his third or fourth trip up Kurt's cock, lips held tight, Kurt gasped, his only warning. Blaine swallowed as much as he could, moaning quietly at the intimacy of the moment.

Standing on shaky legs, Blaine swallowed some of the shower water before demanding a kiss from Kurt. He found himself being washed lovingly by his boyfriend. Finally, after they were both sufficiently clean – and naked, Kurt turned Blaine to face the tile wall and whispered in his ear. "Tell me what you want."

"You know what I want," Blaine answered back.

"You're _sure_?"

"_Fuck_, Kurt. _Yes_."

Standing on the side of Blaine, Kurt wrapped one hand around his boyfriend's cock. Waiting a moment, he brought his other hand down hard on Blaine's ass. Following this with a few firm strokes to Blaine's cock, Kurt continued – sometimes dropping two or three slaps before stroking Blaine frantically.

For his part, Blaine let a stream of verbal nonsense out of his lips – curse words and pleas for more, thank yous and keening moans – until finally Kurt pushed him over the edge, whispering, 'You take it so well, Hobbit. Did you really think Sam's pouty lips could compete with this?'" Blaine spilled over Kurt's hand, whimpering as Kurt shoved him against the wall, the cool tiles pleasant against his flaming ass.

Kurt's fierce kiss let Blaine know exactly who he belonged to, body and soul.

* * *

Using his toes to shut the water valve off, Kurt stopped the flow of hot water into the bath tub and sank a bit deeper into the heavenly warmth. Blaine leaned back into him, and the two of the let the water and Epsom salts relax their fatigued, over-used muscles.

"Can we talk, now? About what's been bothering you."

When Blaine dropped his chin to his chest in response, Kurt ran his lips down the cording on the back of Blaine's neck, nibbling at his shoulder. Instinctively Blaine leaned into the touch. "I … yeah, I guess so," he hummed.

Skimming his hands over Blaine's chest and stomach, Kurt waited for him to start. When he didn't, Kurt asked softly, "Is it me? Did I do something to upset you?"

"No," Blaine replied emphatically.

Kurt ran a hand from Blaine's forehead over the top of his head, smoothing down the tight curls and bringing Blaine's head to rest in the crook of his shoulder. "Blaine, please tell me if I did," he asked quietly. "Whatever is bothering you, is literally eating you up. So if it _is_ me, then please please tell me. Tell me so I can stop or start or do it differently or-"

"It's _not_ you, Kurt," Blaine said more loudly. "Promise." Blaine managed to turn in the bathtub without spilling much of the water on the floor. Hands braced on either side of Kurt's hips, he kissed his boyfriend slow and deep. A few moments later, he pulled away, repositioning himself so he was half-sitting, half-laying on Kurt in the water.

"You've been this giant bastion of sanity for me these past couple of weeks, whether you knew it or not." Taking a deep breath, Blaine doodled nonsensical patterns on Kurt's chest before mentally opening a door to all he'd been keeping to himself.

Voice tight, Blaine began. "Papa's getting worse. I mean, that's kinda to be expected; it's not like they have a cure for Alzheimer's. But I've been noticing things. He's been forgetting things that he didn't before. And the mood swings … like the one you saw … he's had a couple more of those." Hesitating, Blaine chewed on his lower lip. "He didn't recognize me, Kurt. Last week when I came home, he was going to call the police," he whispered.

Wrapping his arms tightly around Blaine, Kurt had no idea what to say to that.

Blaine snuggled deeper into Kurt's embrace. It felt safe. "Mom's taking him back to the memory clinic in Columbus this weekend so they can run some tests and see if he had another stroke."

"Another?" interrupted Kurt.

"Yeah. He's had three that we know of. It's why we moved in with him. But I can't be around all the time when there's school."

"Blaine, he isn't your responsibility alone."

Blaine sighed heavily. "Yeah, except in our family, he kinda is. Dad's not real regular about paying child support – like, to the point that we can't count on it at all. And before you say it, yeah, we could go to court, but that costs money, which we don't have. Mom is our sole income, so she works as much as she can. We don't have money to hire someone to be with Papa full time or even part time. If we have to put him in a home, then we'll have to sell the house." Blaine stopped completely as his eyes filled with tears. "It's gonna kill me when we have to do that. I love that house, and I just can imagine anyone else living there."

Wiping away some of the tears from Blaine's cheeks, Kurt kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry, Blaine."

"Thanks," he whispered back. "So when we moved, Mom tells me that she wants me to have a life outside of caring for Papa, that I should get involved in school and do fun things. And kinda crazily, I saw an ad for the Cheerios and decided it would be a way to continue tumbling and meet people. It's been amazing, Kurt. Really."

Blaine brought their lips together, kissing Kurt almost desperately. "I never expected to come to McKinley and have the group of friends I have, or the boyfriend I have. I kinda planned on keeping things low key. Flying under the radar. And when I realized that I was actually kinda good at this cheer thing – that you actually wanted me on the team."

"That's not _all_ I wanted," Kurt rasped, nibbling on Blaine's earlobe.

"You made _that_ very clear from the beginning, Captain," Blaine laughed, "Seriously, I thought maybe it would be okay to join. To make this commitment, in spite of everything I handle at home."

"But," Kurt walked his fingers down Blaine's arm. "I sense a 'but' here."

"_**And **_there were a lot of factors that went in to my decision to not try out for the competition squad – but mainly … we can't afford it. The money I outlaid so far was from my savings account. Mom doesn't know how much this is costing – and she doesn't have the money to help me. I know, I'm the one who makes sure the bills get paid on time. I'll make New York only because she can get discounted airfare and you offered to let me share a room with your family."

"Blaine, we could have scholarshiped you," Kurt responded, slightly annoyed that money was main reason Blaine didn't try out. "We still can. We need you on the comp squad, Hobbit. It makes us way more competitive and you're amazing when it comes to breaking down the tumbling passes so the others can do them. Will you please reconsider? Please? If it's just a money thing, I know there's enough in the alumni fund to cover you."

Glancing up and meeting Kurt's eyes, Blaine shook his head. "I don't want to be some charity case, Kurt. I feel bad enough that the lawyer who helped us prosecute the asshats who tried to kill me waved most of his fees, and the hospital and doctors all gave mom a huge discount. 'Here Ma'am,' he mimicked angrily, 'We're sorry your gay son got beat up for being gay. We have a discounted rate for gay son beatings.'"

A throat cleared in the doorway, and both boys lost their color when they realized Burt Hummel was leaning against the frame. When they started scrambling for the towels, Burt held out his hand to stop them.

"Blaine?" Waiting until he had the young man's full attention, Burt said quietly, "Son, don't ever belittle someone else's act of kindness. Those people, the lawyers and the doctors, they did what they did, because they saw something very wrong with the world at that moment. And many of us, and I include myself in this, we choose to combat the horrible things that happen in this world, with acts of kindness and good."

Swiping his hat from his head, Burt rubbed his bald pate. "Those people wanted to help you and your mother. They wanted to edge out the evil things those boys did, with goodness. And you shouldn't feel guilty or unworthy because of it. In the same way, the alumni money that goes to fund scholarships is there for a reason. Those women and men who sent it in, felt in their hearts, that cheerleading made them who they are today, gave them something they otherwise wouldn't have had. They want to give that same opportunity to you – if you're man enough to take it."

Burt watched, partially amused, as what he said filtered down into Blaine's head. When his son's boyfriend nodded, Burt gave the boy an honest smile. No one would know how crazy the kid's home life was just by looking at him or interacting with him. The kid was one hell of an actor when he wanted to be. All except the no eating part. Kurt had mentioned Blaine hadn't been eating lunch, and it was clear – given the way the boy's ribs were protruding.

"It seems to me that you were in the midst of a very serious conversation, and I apologize for interrupting. I called down, but no one answered, so I came down, expecting to find you two asleep." Both boys' color started to return as they flushed pink. "What I need to know is this – if I, the parental figure, ignore the fact that I have found the two of you naked in Kurt's bathtub, and go back upstairs, will the two of you be able to finish your conversation, get dressed, and come eat pizza? I mean it, Anderson. Three pieces at least."

Blaine offered up a shy, embarrassed smile. "Absolutely. Is there garlic twisty bread too? Can you save me some, before Finn gets to it?"

"Garlic?" commented Kurt quietly.

"So eat one too. Then my garlic kisses won't bother you so much," whispered Blaine.

Kurt looked up at his dad. "If you were serious about letting us finish our conversation, then we'll need about 10 minutes," he said earnestly.

Nodding, Burt stood up from the door frame. "Wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it, Scooter. Ten minutes is fine. Just like my eating one piece of all meat pizza will be fine and met with silence on your part," Burt added slyly.

"_Daaad_!" Kurt protested.

"Blaine, I think you need to explain things to your boyfriend before the two of you come upstairs. Might give you twelve minutes if you feel like you can do that," Burt offered, making his way towards the staircase.

Snickering, Blaine called out, "I'll do my best, Mr. Hummel. I'll do my best."

* * *

The knock at the front door came somewhat as a surprise, given the lateness of the hour, and since everyone still awake was deeply engrossed in the game. Finn waved Burt back into his recliner. "I'll get it." Jumping up from the floor and walking to the front door, Finn flipped on the porch light and opened the door, unconcerned about who or what could be on the other side. A smartly dressed, petite brunette woman stood there smiling.

Finn stared down at her and cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Isn't it a little late to be selling things door to door?" he asked. "It's after nine. And, just so you know, we already have a newspaper subscription, a vacuum, and religion."

The woman chuckled to herself. "Actually, I was hoping you might sell my son back to me. I'm Blaine's mother. This is Kurt's house, right?" She leaned to the side, making sure the house numbers were correct.

"Oh," remarked Finn, pushing the screen door out so she could step inside. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Finn, Kurt's brother. We're watching the game. Well, some of us are. Blaine conked out about ten minutes in, and Kurt about ten minutes after that. Come on," Finn gestured with this head down the hall and began leading Blaine's mom into the family room.

"Blaine's mom's here to pick him up," Finn announced before flopping down on the floor and snagging his pillow back from Puck.

Burt stood up from the recliner and went to introduce himself, "Ms. Ladd? Burt Hummel, Kurt's dad. It's nice to meet you in person, finally. Before we wake Blaine up," he began, gesturing to where Blaine was curled around Kurt on the couch, both sound asleep, "I was wondering if we could speak privately?"

When Olivia agreed, Burt led her to the kitchen where Carole sat reading at the table.

"Carole, hon? This is Blaine's mom. This is my wife Carole Hudson. Finn, the big guy that came to the door, is her son." Burt waved the women into the chairs around the table. "Coffee?"

"Yes, thank you," said Olivia. "Olivia Ladd," she offered, shaking hands with Carole. "It's nice to meet both of you. Blaine speaks of all of you frequently. Thank you for accepting him so readily into your family."

Burt brought coffee over for everyone, smiling at Olivia's comment. "We kinda have a way of adopting kids. What's four teenage boys' mouths to feed versus three?" Seeing the look of confusion, Burt added, "Sam Evans stays with us too. His parents moved to Kentucky for work, and Sam wanted to stay his senior year here at McKinley so he could continue cheering."

Recognition flooded Olivia's face. "The tall blonde boy?"

"That's Sam."

Mixing in some milk and sugar into her coffee mug, Olivia took a sip and nodded at the taste. "He's come over a couple times in the past two weeks. He and Blaine have been working on some tumbling for the Homecoming rally. So Sam stays here too. That's so very nice of you both to do that for him and his family."

"Sam's a good kid. They're all good kids at heart." Burt hesitated a moment, then decided to just go through with it. "Look, Olivia, I was going to call you tomorrow to talk with you anyway, but here you are. I'm just … I'm worried about Blaine. Worried enough that I'm sticking my nose into where it probably doesn't belong, but … I keep thinking, if it were my son…

Sighing, Olivia admitted, "I know Blaine's been struggling the last couple weeks. Seeing those boys at the football game has really shaken him up."

"It's more than just that," Burt explained. "Did anyone from the school call you about what happened during Blaine's science class today?"

"No," Olivia answered quickly.

Burt rolled his eyes, "No, of course not. Why would they think you might need to know as a parent," he muttered under his breath. "Hold on, I'm gonna get Puckerman."

After Burt returned with Noah, who shared what had happened during Biology class before returning to watch the game with Finn, Burt turned to see Carole holding Olivia's hand.

"I can't believe no one called me," Olivia said in anger.

Burt shrugged. "Unfortunately, I'm not surprised. And I'm not sure Blaine would have shared that with you on his own. Frankly, I'm not sure any of the boys would have told us. I happened to walk in on part of a very private conversation between Kurt and Blaine and then came up here and Sam unloaded about Blaine not eating and not sleeping. They're all concerned about your son, Olivia. I have four teenage boys – boys – who've noticed the dark circles under his eyes and his weight loss."

He watched as Olivia processed everything he was saying, running her hand over her face."Look, I realize you're basically a single parent – and God knows both Carole and I have years of experience being single parents, so there really is no judgment from either of us," emphasized Burt.

"Blaine's floundering. I know, because Kurt went through a similar phase his freshman year. And what worries me the most is what will happen if Blaine continues not being able to eat or sleep. And Carole and I want you to know we're here to help in any way you want or need." Burt took a long sip of the hot coffee and waited for a moment before he got to the part that might be the hardest to take in for Olivia.

"He admitted to all of us at dinner that he hasn't gotten more than three hours sleep a night since that football game. So even though I think we're both on the same page in this parenting handbook about sleepovers with your boyfriend, I'm gonna ask that you let Blaine continue sleeping here tonight. Despite it being a school night. Because your son deserves the rest. And because he onlys seems to get that rest when he's with Kurt."

Olivia sat in silence for a long time as she processed everything. "Thank you," she said quietly. "Thank you for being brave enough to say all of that to me. If you don't mind Blaine staying the night, then it's okay with me too. He's told me Kurt makes him feel safe. I don't think I appreciated what he meant by that until now."

Looking up she met Burt's eyes. "I'm gone a lot during the week, flying. When I'm gone, Blaine's primarily responsible for himself and his grandfather, although it's getting harder for Blaine to manage my father. He knows we have some tough choices ahead, and I know that's part of what is bothering him."

"I'm leaving tomorrow evening with my father to go to Columbus so he can have some tests done. Normally I'd have no reservations about leaving Blaine alone for three nights – but given everything else, maybe, if it's acceptable to the two of you, Blaine could come here Friday or Saturday night. I know I'd feel better knowing someone was encouraging him to eat. And we all know he'll sleep better at least."

Burt didn't even need to consult Carole. "Of course he's welcome to stay. Friday night's the Homecoming game, so he can just pile in the car with the rest of the boys and spend the night. Saturday is the dance, and he and Kurt were talking at dinner about joining their friends on Saturday night, for dinner, before coming back here to watch movies. We'd be happy to take him both nights."

Shuffling steps drew everyone's attention. A sleepy Blaine stood a few feet into the kitchen, leaning back against an equally sleepy Kurt. "Hi, Mom," Blaine rasped, clearing his throat. "Sorry for not calling. I figured Burt or Kurt could take me home," he said before yawning widely.

Olivia stood up and walked over to her son, wrapping him in her arms. "It's okay, Blaine. Listen, I'm going to go home now and you're going to stay here and get some sleep. We'll be gone by the time you come home from school tomorrow. Talk to Mr. Hummel about the plan for the weekend, okay?"

Blaine looked terribly confused, and rubbed the back of his neck. "So I'm sleeping here, tonight? No, seriously. I must still be asleep." He turned and wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, swaying from fatigue.

"Well, if you are asleep, then take Kurt down to his bedroom and go back to sleep. No funny business. We'll see you in the morning," remarked Burt from his chair.

"'Kay, Burt. No bunny fusiness. Night." Blaine's voice was muffled by Kurt's shirt as they carefully walked down the basement stairs. "No bunny fusiness, Kurt. Yer dad said. Yer gonna haf to sleep on the floor if you can't keep yer hands to you. Shit, maybe that's bunny business too. Gonna haf to ask yer dad tomorrow," came Blaine's exhausted voice just as the door to the basement slid shut.

All three adults tried to cover their laughter.

* * *

**_EndNote:_ **Because I don't always get my stories in chronological order, I can share that quite a bit of the next chapter is already written...so it shouldn't be too long before I'm able to upload the next bit. It's Homecoming time! k8


	17. Homecoming: The Rally

**_A/N:_**_ As I was writing this section of the story, I was thinking about my readers who did not grow up in the US, where Homecoming festivities can and often are an enormous part of high school and university life. I have fabulous memories of Homecoming shenanigans and I hope this gives you a taste of that spirit. An enormous thank you to those of you who continue to read this craziness. BTW I have taken 'creative license' with some of the songs used for the rally. Clearly these songs came out later than this story line takes place. They're great songs to pump up a crowd and __I blame the Time-traveling Ninjas. Just sayin'_

**_Warnings: _**_As I have said before, this story is rated M for adult language and sexual situations._

**_Disclaimer:_**_I do not own Glee or its characters. I have invited some of the boys to play and will do my best to return them unharmed._

* * *

**Chapter 17: Homecoming: The Rally**

**Homecoming Week 2011 Events**

**Theme: Salad Dressings**

**Monday**

_Class Dress & Hall Decoration_ – Freshmen (Ranch Dressing) Class of 2015

_Break:_ Class Competitions in Quad

_Extended Lunch_ – Powder Puff Flag Football: Freshmen v. Juniors

**Tuesday**

_Class Dress & Hall Decoration_ – Sophomores (Italian Dressing) Class of 2014

_Break:_ Class Competitions in Quad

_Extended Lunch_ – Powder Puff Flag Football: Sophomores v. Seniors

**Wednesday**

_Class Dress & Hall Decoration_ – Juniors (1000 Island Dressing) Class of 2013

_Break:_ Class Competitions in Quad

_Extended Lunch_ – Powder Puff Flag Football: Winner of Monday v Winner of Tuesday

**Thursday**

_Class Dress & Hall Decoration_ – Seniors (Caesar Dressing) Class of 2012

_Break:_ Class Competitions in Quad

_Extended Lunch_ – Powder Puff Flag Football: PP Winner v Faculty

_Powder Puff Cheerleading Routines:_ Freshman, Sophomores, Juniors, Seniors

**Friday**

_All School Spirit _– Wear your Titan Colors!

_Rally Schedule_ – All School Rally in gym 11:15; Crowning of Homecoming King; Class Winner

_Football:_ JV 4:30pm; Varsity 7:00pm

Crowning of Homecoming Queen Halftime

Parade of Floats

**Saturday**

_Homecoming Dance_ – 7:00 – 11:00pm. McKinley Gymnasium. _Semi-formal attire suggested. Tickets are $8 with ASB card, $10 without. No tickets will be sold at the door. No in and out privileges._

* * *

Want to dress up for Homecoming to score your class some points? Here are some ideas:

_Freshman – Ranch: Yee haw and Yahoo! Time to embrace your inner cowboy or cowgirl. No toy guns!_

_Sophomores – Italian: Gladiators, Gondoliers, and Race Car Drivers abound! No swords!_

_Juniors – 1000 Island: Come get leid. Wear your Hawaiian shirts, grass skirts, and flower leis. No swimsuits or bikini tops!_

_Seniors – Caesar: Toga! Toga! Toga!_

Your class scores one point for each student dressed for your theme! Show your class pride, Titans!

* * *

_Class competitions will occur at break Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday of Homecoming Week. Come on out and show your spirit, McKinley. For each game, points will be awarded as follows: 5 points for 4__th__ place; 7 points for 3__rd__ place; 10 points for 2__nd__ place; 12 points for 1__st__ place. See your class officers to sign up to participate in a class competition._

* * *

Reminder! Hall decorating may begin at 6:00am. All decorations must be up no later than 8:00am. All decorations must be cleaned up and in the proper garbage or recycling dumpsters no later than 6:00pm. Points will be deducted from the overall class score for failure to comply with these guidelines.

* * *

All **girls** interested in participating in Powder Puff Flag Football during Homecoming Week must attend a mandatory meeting at lunch in the lecture hall. Permission slips and waiver of liability forms must be returned, signed by your parent(s) prior to practicing. Any student found violating this policy will be denied entrance to the Homecoming football game and the Homecoming Dance. Additionally, the student's Powder Puff team will be disqualified from the Powder Puff tournament. No experience in flag football is necessary.

* * *

Attention all Varsity and Junior Varsity football players: Interested in coaching a Powder Puff team? See Coach Beiste or Ms. Pillsbury ASAP.

* * *

All **boys** interested in participating in Powder Puff Cheerleading during Homecoming Week must attend a mandatory meeting at lunch in the Boys' Locker Room. Permission slips and waiver of liability forms must be returned, signed by your parent(s) prior to practicing. Any student found violating this policy will be denied entrance to the Homecoming football game and the Homecoming Dance. Additionally, the student's Powder Puff Cheerleading team will be disqualified. No experience in cheering is necessary.

* * *

Attention Cheerios! Interested in coaching a Powder Puff squad? See Kurt Hummel, Santana Lopez or Sam Evans ASAP!

* * *

_It's that time of year, McKinley! The annual Penny Drive for charity begins Monday. Time to clean out the spare change in your car, in the seat cushions in your couch, under your kid sister's bed and bring your coins to school. Water jugs have been set up in front of Coach Sue Sylvester's office. Remember – pennies get counted __**for**__ your class, any silver change gets counted __**against**__ your class. In this game, sabotage is encouraged, as all monies collected will be donated to Second Harvest Food Bank. This is a Homecoming Competition and points will be awarded as follows: 4__th__ place – 10 points; 3__rd__ place – 15 points; 2__nd__ place – 20 points; and 1__st__ place – 25 points._

* * *

Attention all students: Any student found defacing or damaging the decorations, posters, or students of another class during Homecoming Week will be suspended from school for the duration of Homecoming Week. Remember, this is a celebration of class pride and school spirit.

* * *

Reminder to all students: the following items are restricted and should **NOT** be brought on campus at any time, day or night, including the football stadium.

Air Horns or other artificial noise makers

Alcohol

Drugs

Masks

Paint

Party Poppers

Shaving cream

Signs degrading the opposing team

Silly string

Streamers

Tobacco or Tobacco products

Toilet paper

Water Balloons

Water guns

Weapons (fake or real)

Whipped cream

Whistles

Failure to comply will result in the item being confiscated and may result in student suspension or expulsion.

* * *

Teachers! Classes will be dismissed at 11:00am on Friday so you can lead your class to the large gymnasium for the all-school rally. Please sit or stand near the bleachers to assist with crowd control. Anyone found in the faculty room or their personal offices during this time (with or without a doctor's note) will be volunteering to chaperone every school dance for the rest of the school year.

* * *

By Friday of Homecoming Week, the two thousand plus students of William McKinley High School were, as a whole, exhausted. In addition to a week of academic classes, the students had pushed themselves to the brink in order to bring in the most spirit points to their class in order to 'win' Homecoming Week.

Blaine's head was still spinning from everything the school managed to pack in to the six day time frame and it was little surprise he'd fallen asleep during Biology. Outside his regular problems sleeping through the night, he'd been dragged by his fellow sophomore Cheerios to three late night "parties" where he'd helped create the decorations and balloon arches for the Hall Decoration contest. Quinn had abruptly woken him up Tuesday morning so they could be at school by 6:00am, frantically decorating the area of the hallway that Quinn had accepted responsibility for.

During the break period between his first and second classes, he'd been 'volunteered' for the class competitions. Somehow, even though he tried to avoid it, he was dragged into participating for the sophomore class. By Thursday, the fatigue settling in hard, Santana literally dragged him by the arm into the controlled chaos despite his vocal protests.

Of course, the memories he'd made would last a life time. Watching Finn and Puck try to maneuver on tricycles through a race course; Santana, Rosemary and Sage trying to get a cookie from their foreheads to their mouths without using their hands; the giant balloon stomp involving all the Varsity football team versus the Varsity Cheerios (Blaine had managed to come in third); beating Sam and Dave Karofsky at the root beer baby bottle chugging contest; or donning a lifejacket that was connected by a bungee cord to a lifejacket worn by Kurt to have a 'tug-o-war' contest involving them filling garbage cans, placed on opposite sides of the playing area, with balloons.

Blaine was proud to be the only underclassman to best a senior, not once but twice. Although, Sam and Dave were way more understanding and sportsmanlike than Kurt when it came to losing. When Kurt became huffy and standoffish after the loss, Blaine had enlisted Santana's help in getting Kurt called out of class by the school nurse.

When the door to Kurt's government class opened, Blaine stepped closer, grabbing Kurt's wrist as the door slid shut.

"Sshhh," he whispered. "Follow me."

"Blaine? Blaine, I have to go to the nurse's office," Kurt protested.

Turning around to look at Kurt, Blaine continued tugging him towards the staircase. "That call slip didn't come from the nurse's office. I got a little help from a friend. Why don't you hush, Kurt, and let Nurse Blaine take care of you," he purred quietly.

With ninja-like stealth, at least in Blaine's head, they crept down to the boys' bathroom in the basement which was once again, conveniently empty. Snapping the lock into place, Blaine stalked towards Kurt, wetting his lips with the flick of his tongue. "Ever since I beat you yesterday in that game, you've been pissed at me, Kurt." Blaine stepped up to Kurt, shoving his uniform top up so he could caress Kurt's stomach.

"I'm not pissed at you," sighed Kurt, eyes fluttering shut at Blaine's touch.

"I call bullshit," whispered Blaine, running his tongue along Kurt's ear. "You snapped at me at least three times yesterday and once this morning. It makes me feel like … like we're not equal. Like you only want me if you always win. I don't want to have the throw the game because my boyfriend can't handle occasionally coming in second place."

Kurt claimed Blaine's mouth, kissing the sophomore deeply as his hands began to roam over Blaine's athletic form. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I don't like losing, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you." Kurt pulled away, placing his hands on either side of Blaine's head. "I was so proud of you when you won, by the way. So proud."

Blaine flushed under the intensity of Kurt's gaze. "Thank you."

"My sophomore boyfriend bested three time winner Sam Evans in the root beer chugging contest. No one thought he could be beat," Kurt said with pride.

A small smirk grew on Blaine's face. "I think I have more practice than Sam," he giggled against Kurt's neck.

"In using a baby bottle?" Kurt asked in confusion.

"No, silly. In sucking … _things_ … hard. In swallowing things _down_," growled Blaine, hands wandering across the front of Kurt's uniform pants.

Gazing into the honey gold depths of Blaine's eyes, Kurt leaned forward to brush the tips of their noses together. "I want you _so_ much. All the time, but especially right now. I really wish we weren't at school, weren't performing in twenty minutes. I really, _really_ wish we had time – time to make each other fall apart slowly, over and over again." Pressing their lips together, Kurt enjoyed the slow slide and gentle nips as they made out languidly.

"Soon," breathed Blaine before he took Kurt's lips again.

After several minutes, a large racket in the hallway pulled their thoughts away from each other. The marching band was on the move, which meant it was time for them to get back to class so they could attend the rally. Holding on the Blaine tightly for a moment, Kurt kissed his temple. "We've gotta get back to class, Hobbit. Pressing their foreheads together, Kurt whispered, "This is gonna be so intense, but you need to know that the rush from actual competition, is a hundred times bigger. And nationals – fucking a thousand. Just keep that in mind."

Taking Blaine's hand in his, Kurt led them out of the bathroom, and into the throngs of students all making their way towards the large gymnasium.

* * *

The gymnasium was filled to the point of bursting. Squeezed into the bleachers with barely enough room to draw a breath, the students yelled, screamed, shouted, and cheered for their graduating classes. On one side of the gym sat the freshmen and sophomore classes; across from the freshman sat the junior class and across from the sophomores, the bleachers were empty. When all of the underclassmen were seated, Principal Figgins took the microphone, tapping on it twice. "Ladies and gentlemen. Ladies and Gentlemen! Please welcome the William McKinley seniors, class of 2012!

Standing at the doorways to the gym, the senior members of the Cheerio squad began a difficult series of cartwheels, flips and twists across the gym floor, bringing the other students to their feet. The seniors, dressed in red and black, most with '20' written on their left cheeks and '12' written on their right cheeks, walked in the gym shouting, "Who are you? **One**, **Two**. Who are you? **One**, **Two**," at the top of their lungs.

In response, the other classes began yelling out their own graduation years just as loud. The general cacophony continued until the last senior settled onto the bleachers, where upon the senior, junior and sophomore classes began razzing the freshmen class, taunting them by drawing out the word, "_Freeeeshmen_. _Freeeeshmen_."

Blaine sat on the floor of the gym in front of the sophomore bleacher section along with the other sophomore cheerleaders and letter girls, holding his fingers in his ears in a desperate attempt to save his hearing. The others had warned him it was going to be loud. This wasn't loud - this was insanity.

Each of the fall sports teams was announced by Coach Beiste, the players carefully stumbling out of the bleachers to stand on the gym floor with their teammates. Once everyone had waved at their friends, and received applause in acknowledgement of their athletic abilities, they returned to their seats. Now it was time for the Cheerios to perform.

Kurt and Santana had everyone gather in the center circle on the floor, speaking a few last words of encouragement. Blaine wasn't really paying attention to the words, so it caught him by surprise as the huddle broke apart and Kurt's hand grazed his lower back, gently nudging Blaine towards his opening position. Butterflies took flight in Blaine's stomach as he found his mark, facing the sophomore class, slightly left of center. Silence filled the gym, and Kurt's call of "Cheerios, attention!" was easily heard. As a unit, they responded, "OKAY!" Blaine focused on slowly breathing in and out while waiting for the music to begin.

The opening bars of Fall Out Boys' "_My Songs Know What You Did_" filled the gym at an eardrum bursting volume. Finding the count within the music, Blaine went about moving from formation to formation, seamlessly transitioning from dance to tumbling to lifting Rosemary to stand on his shoulders before walking backwards as the JV team moved to the center of the gym floor. Somehow, the first 48 seconds of their routine was already complete.

The JV squad, led by Quinn Fabray, performed their spotlight routine to "Scream and Shout" by Will. and Brittany Spears. Despite having less experience performing and only four boys to assist with the stunts – they were still able to execute some impressive basket tosses and four of the five girls that were lifted to fully extended Liberties held them for a full eight counts.

Readying himself for the Varsity spotlight, Blaine just caught Quinn's tumble to the floor out of the corner of his eye before he was jogging with Rosemary to the middle of the gym, quickly bouncing her into a fully extended heel stretch which she transitioned into a Liberty by bringing her extended leg down and lifting it behind her, creating a ninety degree angle. Holding the position for five counts, she then leaped fearlessly, twisting down until Blaine's arms stopped her decent.

The next formation had the Varsity members of the stunt squad divided into teams in order to execute the spectacular throws for which they were known. Sam, Blaine and Hannah would be tossing Rosemary; Kurt, Drew and Kamryn would fly Santana; Mike, Zack and Steven would throw Sage. Over and over the girls climbed on to the interlinked hands and wrists of their bases to be thrown high up into the air, executing somersaults, twists, kicks and splits with grace. The rest of the Varsity team danced and tumbled around them as the roar from the assembled students grew in intensity.

As the cheering portion of the routine began, JV retook the floor, mixing in with their Varsity counterparts. Together, they yelled:

**_One_**_! We are the Titans, _

**_Two_**_! We still can't hear you,_

**_Three_**_! Shout a little bit louder, _

_We are number __**One**__!_

The Cheerios repeated the cheer three times as more and more students joined the familiar chant. Spreading out so they were facing the entire gym, the cheerleaders began rallying the students, using signs, to cheer for the "_RED_" and "_WHITE_" and "_MCKINLEY_" and "_TITANS_". Each year, the rally truly was the moment when the student body transitioned from focusing on class pride, to school pride and all that being a William McKinley High School Titan meant.

The energy and enthusiasm in the gymnasium was palpable.

Scrambling to take their positions for the last dance section, Blaine tried to catch his breath. The Homecoming routine was just over six minutes without the cheer section. And although the energy from the crowd helped, with his overall lack of sleep and nutrition, Blaine was starting to drag.

And then, suddenly, it was the last stunt. With no time to second guess anything, Blaine executed a short series of back flips right into Santana, Sage, and Kurt's hands. Steadying himself for less than a count, Blaine felt himself fly into the air, where Drew and Zach, standing on the shoulders of Sam and Mike respectively, grabbed him around the waist. Blaine's feet barely brushed their thighs before they lifted him to stand on their shoulders. Almost as if by magic, in the space of four seconds, Blaine found himself at the top of a three tier pyramid, gazing down at the junior and senior classes who were going ballistic.

Kurt tossed Blaine an oversized flag with the Titan mascot emblazoned in white on the red field. Carefully unfurling it, Blaine used the pole to balance as Drew and Zach lifted him to full extension above their heads. From this position, Blaine waved the flag over his head through the end of the music. The entire gym was on its feet, stamping and shouting and Blaine could feel the trembling resonate through his body.

It was the greatest rush in the world.

* * *

Exiting the gym as a team after their phenomenal routine, the Cheerios raced around the building in order to reenter from the side closest to the seniors. It made for a more dramatic performance, strutting off together and meant they could all sit together, gathered along the wall that stretched between the seniors and sophomores.

Shaking off raindrops that had fallen on him during his jog, Kurt looked around as he walked through the doorway to see if he could spot Blaine in the chaos. He wasn't surprised to see Santana dragging the short sophomore behind her.

"Lose this?" she teased, gently pushing Blaine into Kurt's arms as the Cheerios began to sit.

Sweaty and exhausted, the cheerleaders jostled for position, trying to find a prime spot against the wall or leaning back against someone's chest or legs. Having a back rest would make the last thirty minutes of the rally much more comfortable. Kurt spotted Finn and Puck sitting on the bottom bleacher of the senior section and after pushing his way over to them, he flopped down, leaning against Finn's legs, and pulled Blaine down to with him.

"_Dude_, that fucking _rocked_," Puck called out, squeezing Kurt's shoulder and ruffling Blaine's curls. "Like, _shit_. You were _on_ it. Anderson? _Fuck_, that stunt with you on top the pyramid? Every girl in the school is gonna want in your pants after that. _Fuck_, **_I_** wanted you when you started waving that flag. And the Puckasaurus has, until now, been 100% heterosexual, you know."

Feeling Blaine getting warmer as he flushed from the attention, Kurt started to laugh. "Sooo, I'm guessing you liked it, Puck?"

"_Fuck_ _you_, Hummel, you **know** I did. You and Satan really brought it home this year. So proud!" Wiping an imaginary tear away from his eye, Puck grinned at Kurt.

Leaning down so only Blaine could hear him, Puck added, "Now they're only gonna be talking about that performance. _Fuck_, B, really. That was … _amazing_."

Looking over his shoulder, Blaine smiled shyly at Puck. "Thanks, Puck. It means a lot to hear how much you liked it. But you should know," he continued in mock seriousness, "that there's only _one_ person who gets in my pants – I'm flattered. But sadly, it would never work out between us. Maybe, though, you could let some of those girls down gently for me. Give 'em a shoulder to cry on. Or something."

Puck and the rest of their friends around them all laughed. "Dude, if Hummel ever breaks up with you, I'm asking you out. Come on, Anderson, don't let the Mohawk scare you away," Puck teased.

"_Fuck_!" whined Kurt. "Why does _everyone_ wanna date **my** boyfriend? He's _mine_, people. **_Mine_**. M. I. N. E." Wrapping his arms tightly around Blaine, Kurt glared at Puck and Sam.

"Calm down, Porcelain," laughed Santana. "Hobbit's fabulous, and we all _know_ who he belongs to."

Everyone's attention was drawn to the far side of the gym as a large screen lowered from the ceiling, and the lights began to shut off. Taking the opportunity, Kurt brushed his lips against Blaine's ear murmuring, "_Fucking_ getting you a fake ID so I can take you to a tattoo parlor. _Fucking_ getting a '_Belongs to Kurt Humme_l' tat across your ass, baby."

Turning in Kurt's arms, Blaine whispered in his ear, "Your possessiveness? _So hot_. But I don't want some strange tattoo artist staring at my ass for a couple hours. He'd also have to touch my ass. _Not _gonna happen. Think you're just gonna have to find some other way to mark me as yours."

As the gym went completely dark, Blaine found Kurt's lower lip and sucked on it gently. The fact that more than two thousand people surrounded them while they kissed only made it that much hotter.

Other couples also took advantage of the darkness to express their affection until the projection system warmed up enough that the image on the screen could be seen. Every year the media class, in conjunction with the audio/visual club, produced a highlight video featuring all the fall sports, lunchtime and after school activities, the Homecoming court, and Homecoming class competitions.

The media students really did try, despite rumor to the contrary, to get as many different students represented as possible during the ten minute show. Anyone who complained that it was 'always the same students on the video' was met with two immediate responses: 'join the class' and 'what activity to you participate in?'. Because the media class didn't feel obligated to chase down a student who only hung out under the bleachers, smoking.

Breaking their kiss, Kurt murmured, "You should watch this. Count how many times you're in it versus me. Winner has to provide a sexual service to the loser."

"_Fuck, Porcelain_," Santana whispered under her breath. "You're _killing_ me."

"If that's the case," whispered Blaine against Kurt's ear, "is there really a winner or a loser?"

"_Exactly_," purred Kurt.

Settling back against Kurt's chest, Blaine took in the various images of practices and club meetings, classes and sporting events. The Homecoming court each took fifteen seconds to introduce themselves and then the video transitioned into a montage of pictures from all the various Homecoming activities. There was a fierce roar from the sophomore bleachers when a picture of Blaine's victory in the root beer chugging contest flashed on the screen and then another when the tug-o-war winners were shown.

"_So_ proud," whispered Kurt and Santana and Sam each reached over to squeeze Blaine's arms.

The next image on the screen was blurrier than the rest, and from the shaking, clearly a cell phone video. It showed a darkened classroom but not much else was clear. Until the shouting. "_Please don't hurt me_!" came Blaine's anguished cry.

Kurt froze.

"**_Someone_** is gonna _fucking_ **_die_** over this," snarled Santana – her words carried throughout the silent gym. "I'll _fucking_ **_kill_** 'em."

"**Lopez**!" yelled Coach Sylvester in warning through her megaphone.

As other teachers scrambled to turn the lights on and cut the video, the student body began to whisper. Whisper angrily.

"Son of a bitch."

"Who the hell thought it would be okay to do that?"

"That's just wrong."

Blaine's fingers dug painfully into Kurt's thighs as the students began booing. Loudly.

Finn's hand came down on Blaine's shoulder as he leaned over his step-brother. "That's not about you, Blaine. You know that, right? They're pissed because someone did that _to_ you."

"I know," Blaine managed to push out past his tight throat.

As the lights came back on, Blaine's friends watched him closely. While Sam and Kurt feared the embarrassment might turn into another emotional breakdown – and tears were the last thing the student body needed to see from Blaine – it was clear the sophomore was livid. Jaw clenched tight, two bright pink dots of fury settled on his cheeks.

Sam reached his hand over, covering Blaine's. "You walk out of here, we will _all_ walk out with you," he stated calmly. "That was _bullshit_, and you _don't_ have to sit here and take it. Tell us what you want to do, Blaine. We've got your back and we'll back your play."

Nodding once, Blaine pushed to his feet and walked over to where Principal Figgins and Coach Beiste were having a heated conversation. His friends watched as Blaine spoke quietly to the both of them and then was handed the microphone. Turning it on, and tapping it to make sure it was working, Blaine cleared his throat and addressed the students of McKinley.

"Hi. For those of you who don't know me yet, my name is Blaine Anderson. I … was the kid at the top of the pyramid a few minutes ago,"

"**WHOOOP. THAT'S MY BOY! ANDERSON**!" shouted Puck in encouragement.

Blaine glanced at him and waved, "Uh, _thanks_, Puck. So … I'm also the kid in that video … that many of you saw before today I'm sure, the kid who '_freaked out_' in Biology class. Even though I'm a sophomore, this is my first year at McKinley. I asked Coach Beiste and Principal Figgins to allow me the opportunity to address what you just saw."

"_Fuck_," whispered Kurt.

Finn, who could feel his brother start to shake, slipped down onto the ground and hugged Kurt to his chest. "It's gonna be okay," he replied quietly.

"Last year I attended a _different_ school and at the Homecoming dance, I went with a friend. A _male_ friend. Because, _yes_, I'm gay and I'm _not_ into hiding it. Or myself." He paused, swallowing around the lump in his throat. "Some kids from my old school … had a … _problem_ with two _guys_ going to a dance … and … expressed _this_ … with a baseball bat and a crowbar." A sympathetic hissing snaked around the gym as the students took the information in.

With deliberate intention, Blaine lifted his uniform top, giving the entire student body a chance to see his scar and bruising, turning where he stood. "I was in a coma for two weeks and the doctors told my parents to start planning for my funeral … and asked whether they wanted to donate my organs."

Allowing himself to acknowledge the anger he felt – at Johnny and Taylor and Daniel; at whoever had taken the video and whoever was responsible for splicing it into the highlight reel, Blaine's voice grew stronger, more forceful. "But, the thing is, I'm kinda stubborn and a bit of a fighter and I wasn't ready to go." Facing the students, Blaine couldn't see the teachers or fellow Cheerios who wiped real tears from their faces at his story.

Tugging his top back in place, Blaine looked over toward his friends. "I spent three months in the hospital. We moved. Now I'm here. And there are a lot of things I really like about '_here'_." He smiled shyly at Kurt before facing the sophomore bleachers.

"A couple of weeks ago, when we played Freemont, I ran into the guys who did this to me. And only because Sam Evans and Dave Karofsky stood up for me, am I here today. 'Cause I know **_exactly_** what those guys would have done to me otherwise."

Looking back over his shoulder, Blaine found Sam and Dave in the crowd. "I owe an enormous thank you to two guys who _willingly_ and _without_ _hesitation_, stood up for a short, awkward sophomore that neither one knew really well. And they did. Because it was the right thing to do. And because, as Sam said that night, the Titans are a family and no one messes with our family."

Waiting until Blaine turned away, Sam buried his face in Rosemary's hair, his tears blending in with the clinging raindrops. Rocking the two of them back and forth, he listened intently to Blaine's words.

"I have nightmares. Because of all of this. Really bad nightmares about being beaten to within an inch of my life," Blaine explained frankly. "And because I haven't been able to sleep real well since the Freemont game, I fell asleep in Biology – and _Ms. Bedford_, wherever you are, I'm still sorry about that. I fell asleep and had a nightmare. When my friends tried to wake me up, it triggered the reaction you saw on the screen a few minutes ago."

"So to the person or persons who took that video and to the person or persons who spliced it into the media class' highlight reel," Blaine continued, one hand on his hip, the other holding the microphone, moving so he was addressing the entire gym. "I'm a member of the nationally ranked McKinley High School Cheerios," he paused as the Cheerios clapped and yelled behind him, "and frankly, if that wasn't enough of a clue as to exactly how tough I am – which it really should have been, then understand _this_: Your attempt to embarrass me with something I have no control over, is a pathetic, epic fail – kinda like you."

Smiling just a bit as he listened to the '_oohs'_ of the students, Blaine continued, "And as soon as I sit back down – it won't even be a _blip_ on my radar. But you've proven, to your friends, classmates, and to the staff of this school – what complete jackasses you _really_ are."

Taking a deep breath, Blaine let it out slowly. "Homecoming is about a school coming together. Not about trying to tear it apart. So thank you for listening. Now you can stop whispering about me because you know my story – _from me_, not some rumor passed down through forty-seven retellings or a cell phone video. I'm going to hand the microphone back to Coach Beiste now. I don't know about all of you, but _I_ still want to know the results of the class competitions and who our Homecoming King will be."

With a half wave, Blaine spun, and handed the microphone to Coach Beiste as the sophomore and senior classes jumped to their feet giving him a standing ovation.

* * *

"I just wanna know one thing – how the _hell_ did the junior class manage to turn in so many pennies?" asked Blaine.

Reaching his SUV, Kurt handed the umbrella they were sharing to Blaine and fumbled for his car keys. Once the bell releasing everyone to lunch had rung, he'd dragged Blaine away from the gymnasium, needing time alone with his boyfriend to process everything that happened. Unlocking the door, Kurt held it open, allowing Blaine to slide across the backseat.

Shaking the excess raindrops from the umbrella, Kurt carefully shut the door and turned to look at Blaine. "Rosemary and Sage."

Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, Blaine said, "What about them?"

"They've won every penny drive they've ever been asked to participate in. Their parents own the miniature golf places in Lima."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Anyway, they sweep the water traps for the loose change. I mean, the family does that all the time anyway. It all gets donated to charity. It's on the website. A different charity every month. They even run a contest where you can write an essay explaining what charity you'd like the money to go to and why. Anyway, Rose and Sage get to sweep the ponds for the week of Homecoming. All the pennies went into the junior jar. The other classes never stand a chance," Kurt laughed quietly.

Blaine grew thoughtful, "Well, at least I have a year to figure out how to beat them. _And_ collect pennies."

"Good luck with that," Kurt scoffed. The smile slowly melted off his face. Biting his lower lip, he glanced sideways at Blaine. "Can I … can I hold you?" he said, his voice just above a whisper.

Surprised by Kurt's request, Blaine slid across the seat. "What is it?"

Kurt waited until Blaine settled secure in his arms, to answer. "I just. I _need_ this." Burying his face in the crook of Blaine's neck, Kurt tried to settle the nerves that still had his stomach in knots. He felt Blaine's fingers massaging the chords at the back of his neck and for a few minutes he concentrated on that and the sound of the rain hitting the roof of his car.

"It's raining," Blaine whispered, brushing his lips across Kurt's forehead.

Kurt chuckled. "You _just_ noticed now?"

"_No_," replied Blaine. "Just wondering what that meant about tonight."

"We cheer. They play. People get wet," Kurt explained with a wide yawn.

"Lovely."

"Price of fame, babe."

"Think I'd rather be unknown and dry, given the choice," Blaine murmured.

Brushing his lips against Blaine's, Kurt offered, "You could pretend we're in the shower."

Blaine snorted. "_Yeah_, that would work _real_ well. Me sporting a hard on in front of all the people in the stands including your dad."

"Do I have that effect on you, Hobbit?" Kurt teased, moving a hand higher up on Blaine's thigh.

Rolling his eyes, Blaine slid his lips along Kurt's jaw. "You _know_ you do." Clearing his throat, Blaine pulled back slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Um, I _do_ have a question, though."

"You know you can ask me anything, Blaine."

Pressing his lips together, Blaine stared down out the fogged window, searching for the right words in the right order. "When I was talking … I looked over at you." He hesitated, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Finn … Finn was … you and Finn," he fumbled.

"You saw Finn holding me," interrupted Kurt.

Blaine nodded, not meeting Kurt's gaze.

"_Hobbit_, you … you're not worried about that are you?"

"I mean, _no_. I … you're _brothers_. I get that. I just …I." Blaine lifted his chin looking into the blue depths of Kurt's eyes. "_Yeah_, a little."

Kurt inched forward, eyes open, as he drew nearer. With deliberate slowness, he flicked the tip of his tongue out, wetting Blaine's pink lips, causing the sophomore to groan wantonly. At the opening of Blaine's mouth under his ministrations, Kurt dipped his tongue into the delicious heat. Lifting his hands to frame Blaine's face, Kurt took his time physically illustrating his attraction.

Breaking the kiss, Kurt cradled Blaine against his chest. "What you _saw_ was Finn keeping _your_ _boyfriend_ from completely losing his _shit_ while watching you walk through hell," Kurt admitted as a tear broke free to slide down his cheek. Sniffling, Kurt knew he was shaking from the pent up emotions, and knew there was nothing he could do to hide it from Blaine.

"_Oh_. I'm glad he was there for you, then," admitted Blaine quietly lifting his hand to brush the tear away from Kurt's face.

"He's here for you too, you know," Kurt replied quickly.

"I know," whispered Blaine, still snuggled into Kurt's chest.

Twining one of Blaine's curls around his finger, Kurt continued, quietly, "And … in the interest of full disclosure, I _did_ have a crush on him during our sophomore year. That was a long time ago and it was safe."

"Safe?"

"My heart had been shredded, and whether I wanted to admit it or not, I knew deep down that Finn wasn't ever going to return the feelings I had for him. Um, changing the topic, do you _want_ to talk about it?" Kurt asked. Blaine's curls tickled him as the younger boy shook his head in the negative.

"Not now. We've got class and the game and," he inhaled sharply through his nose, "can we just pretend the last hour never happened? Like, not forever, but just until Sunday, maybe?"

"If that's what you want."

Blaine sat up, looking Kurt directly in the eye and snapping, "What I _want_ is for people to be nice to each other. To be _decent_ human beings. To recognize that tearing someone down doesn't build you up and violence doesn't solve problems. What I _want_ is to be able to conquer my own demons so I could go with you to a school dance because you _deserve_ that, Kurt. What I _want_ is for my grandfather to be better and my father to give a damn about me."

Recognizing he was taking out his frustrations on the wrong person, Blaine deflated. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"S' okay. I'm here for you no matter what, honey."

Blaine twined their fingers together, leaning back against the door and window. "I _also_ want a win at Nationals." His smile pulled up on one side as he watched his words sink in to Kurt's head. "Yes, you _heard_ me. I'm gonna talk to Coach. If she's willing to take me – if she thinks I'm good enough, and if I can get a scholarship, then I'll join the comp squad."

A grin split Kurt's face. "I had a feeling the rush from performing might … have an impact."

Blushing, Blaine caressed the underside of Kurt's palm with his fingertips. "That might have been _part_ of it, but … it wasn't the _only_ reason. My super hot boyfriend has this fantasy … this _dirty_ _dirty_ fantasy … about how to celebrate a win a Nationals. Something about cashing in the V card on my ass. But if I'm not _on_ the squad…" Blaine let the rest go unsaid.

"Blaine! I mean, _yeah_ that's been a fantasy of mine, but _don't_ do this because of me. You've got to want it for _you_," protested Kurt. "Don't … don't give up something you're not ready to, just because of someone else's desire."

"I'm ready," Blaine blurted, flushing an even deeper red, before backtracking. "Okay, I'm not quite ready for … _that_. At least not _yet_. But I _will_ be. By then. And if I'm not, then I'll tell you. Promise."

Linking their pinkies, Kurt kissed their knuckles. "I _promise_ you that we can go as slow as you want. Or need. I'm in no rush to get to the finish line. I may sound different, when we're … messing around. But that's mostly because I'm trying to turn you on."

Snuggling back into Kurt's shoulder, Blaine sighed. "And if I want to go a little _faster_? A little further?"

"I'd be okay with that too," Kurt admitted.

The tapping of the rain grew louder.

Eyes drifting shut, Blaine yawned, "How long until 3rd?

Glancing at the dashboard in the front seat, Kurt settled back into the seat. "Fifteen."

"Gonna set your alarm so we don't miss it?" Blaine asked sleepily.

"Already done. Rest. You've earned it."

It took just a few moments before both boys were fast asleep, lulled by the rhythmic beat of the rain and the warmth of their bodies.

* * *

_End Note: I'm proud of Blaine. In all seriousness, I had no idea all of this was going to happen. My notes said "Homecoming." That's it. I hope you enjoyed this bit. So, it is often said that you should 'write what you know' and I've been doing that with parts of this story. The character of Blaine's grandfather, Mr. Ladd is based on much of my experiences with my grandmother who, God willing, will turn 89 on Wednesday. She has Alzheimer's disease, and Mr. Ladd's house and backyard are hers. I share this with you, because this morning she suffered a serious stroke - not her first. And I share this with you because I believe in the power of prayer, and I know by sharing this, many of you will add her to yours although we have never met. Thank you for your kind thoughts and for spending this time with me. I hope to post again soon! -k8_


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